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ESTABLISHED  AT  YALE 

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WILLIAM  H.  CROCKER 

OF  THE  CLASS  OF  1882 

SHEFFIELD  SCIENTIFIC  SCHOOL 

YALE  UNIVERSITY 


THEODORE   THORNTON   MUNGER 
NEW  ENGLAND  MINISTER 


y^  7.  fipt^<'-^->-^^^^—^ 


Theodore  Thornton  Munger 


NEW   ENGLAND   MINISTER 


By 

BENJAMIN  WISNER  BACON 


NEW  HAVEN:  YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:  HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MCMXIII 


V 


Copyright,  1913 
By  Yale  University  Press 


Printed  November,  1913,  1000  copies 


THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

The  world's  clear  colors  fade  into  the  gray, 

The  sunset  holds  its  softened  lamps  to  show 

A  glory-Kghted  path  for  him,  and  so 

The  gentle  prophet  passes  on  his  way. 

No  strange  and  lonely  road  his  feet  will  stray; 

Too  often  on  the  vision  height,  we  know 

He  stood  above  the  valleys  dim  and  low. 

And  saw  the  glory  of  the  King's  highway. 

Love  followed  to  the  border-land  of  death. 

Cheered  the  last  days,  upheld  the  failing  strength, 

And  whispered  o'er  the  grave  its  soft  farewell. 

Love  is  its  own  interpreter  to  tell 

That  he  has  found  life's  freedom,  breadth,  and  length, 

And  breathes  with  vigors  of  eternal  breath. 

Robert  Charles  Denison. 


646497 


PREFACE 

A  constantly  reiterated  remark  of  those  qualified  to 
speak  of  Theodore  Thornton  Munger  and  his  service 
to  his  generation  was  to  the  effect  that  his  personal 
character  and  daily  life  gave  added  weight  to  the 
influence  of  his  writings  and  pulpit  utterances.  A 
biography,  therefore,  seemed  called  for  in  the  interest 
not  only  of  the  large  circle  who  knew  and  loved  him, 
and  would  gladly  supplement  their  remembrance 
from  a  fuller  record,  but  also  in  the  interest  of  the  far 
larger  circle  in  many  lands  who  knew  him  only  from 
his  published  writings.  The  question  could  only  be  as 
to  the  character  of  the  work.  This  question,  too,  is 
determined  by  the  nature  of  Dr.  Munger's  service. 
For  while  he  has  claims  to  a  place  of  remembrance 
among  our  New  England  theologians,  having  much 
of  the  spirituality  and  insight  of  Bushnell,  whose 
disciple  he  was ;  while  his  ideals  and  service  in  the  field 
of  letters  were  such  as  to  give  him  a  place  among  the 
essayists  and  the  litterateurs  of  New  England,  still 
he  was  preeminently  the  typical  New  England  minis- 
ter, a  servant  of  the  churches,  perpetuating  in  every 
feature  of  his  life's  work  that  worthy  Puritan  succes- 


viii  PREFACE 

sion  to  which  he  belonged  by  birth,  by  disposition,  by 
training,  and  by  the  whole  divine  shaping  of  his  life. 

The  present  work,  therefore,  aims  to  be  purely  and 
simply  a  biography — the  life-story  of  a  New  England 
minister.  The  mass  of  remaining  correspondence  is 
immense.  The  letters  to  Mulford  alone  would  fill  a 
modest  volume.  Yet  it  is  not  a  "Life  and  Letters" 
wliich  we  present.  Of  dramatic  incident  there  is 
almost  nothing.  The  reader's  sympathies  will  be 
called  forth  neither  by  adventure  nor  by  martyrdom. 
It  is  the  simple  story  of  a  noble  ideal  faithfully  and 
successfully  pursued.  Yet  success  of  this  kind,  suc- 
cess in  the  ministry,  is  not  so  common  that  the  lack  of 
dramatic  quality  should  deprive  our  narrative  of 
value.  The  problem  of  the  churches,  especially  that 
of  the  free  and  progressive  churches  of  the  democratic 
Congregational  order,  is  acute.  The  movements  of 
our  time  toward  unity  in  liberty  depend  for  their  suc- 
cess, as  Munger  saw,  upon  a  system  combining  con- 
tinuity with  catholicity.  But  the  problem  of  the 
church  on  its  practical  side  is  largely  a  problem  of  the 
ministry.  This  in  its  education,  its  ideals,  its  practice, 
must  reflect  some  at  least  of  the  qualities  which  char- 
acterized the  life  we  here  describe. 

And  if  dramatic  incident  be  lacking  as  regards  out- 
ward movement,  the  record  of  the  times  will  appear 


PREFACE  ix 

not  uneventful  to  those  who  appreciate  the  vast 
change  of  rehgious  thought  in  our  generation.  The 
New  England  theology  of  the  past  had  its  centre  at 
New  Haven.  From  Edwards  to  Taylor  and  Harris 
it  attempted  only  "improvements"  on  the  Calvinistic 
system.  Bushnell  marked  the  beginnings  of  a  larger 
growth,  and  Munger  followed  in  his  footsteps.  He 
counted  himself  neither  critic,  ecclesiastic,  nor  theo- 
logian. Yet  he  was  far  from  disregarding  their  part 
in  religious  development.  He  definitely  assigned  this 
work  to  the  university,  and  called  upon  church  and 
university  alike  to  renew  the  alliance  of  the  old  colo- 
nial days.  For  himself  he  took  the  part  of  parish 
minister ;  and  in  the  fulfilment  of  this  ideal  faithfully, 
consistently,  and  bravely,  there  was  conflict  enough. 
He  was  loyal  to  the  broader,  freer,  more  catholic  spirit 
of  Old  Congregationalism,  in  days  when  the  current 
set  strongly  toward  a  "denominational"  ideal.  In  the 
part  thus  played  there  was  no  lack  of  significant  inci- 
dent for  those  who  believe  in  the  "variety  in  unity"  of 
the  New  England  churches,  and  pray  for  the  coming 
of  the  spiritual  unity  of  a  church  both  free  and 
catholic. 

In  the  task  thus  set  for  the  biographer,  the  most 
difficult  part  has  been  the  sifting  of  material. 
Acknowledgment  should  be  made  to  the  many  friends 


X  PREFACE 

whose  names  appear  in  connection  with  the  extracts 
embodied  in  the  volume,  as  well  as  to  many  more  who 
rendered  like  service,  though  their  letters  have  found 
no  room.  Above  all  must  the  biographer  acknowl- 
edge his  indebtedness  to  jMrs.  Hunger,  and  to  the 
daughter  who,  after  years  of  loving  service  to  lier 
father,  has  rendered  efficient  aid  by  placing  all  her 
material  and  her  cooperation  at  the  disposal  of  the 
biographer. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

Preface vli 

Chronology xiii 

List  of  Published  Works xvii 

I.     Early  Years,  1830-1847 1 

11.     College  Days,  1847-1851 30 

III.     Training    and    Ordination    for    the    Ministry, 

1852-1855 60 

IV.     First  Years  in  the  Ministry,  1856-1860       .       .  93 

V.     War  and  Reconstruction,  1861-1869   ...  129 

VI.     Widening  Influence,  1870-1874        ....  169 

VII.     The  Mantle  of  Bushnell,  CaKfornia,  1875-1877  201 

VIII.     Pastor  and  Teacher,  North  Adams,  1877-1885  235 

IX.     Church  Building,  New  Haven,  1885-1900  .       .  275 

X.     Retirement,  New  Haven,  1901-1910       ...  319 

XI.     Appreciations 353 

Index 401 


THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

1830.  March  5.    Birth  in  Bainbridge,  N.  Y. 

1836.  Removal  of  family  to  Homer,  N.  Y. 

1846.  Entered  Western  Reserve  College  at  Hudson,  Ohio. 

1847.  Entered  Yale  CoUege. 

1848.  July  2.    United  with  Yale  College  Church. 

1851.  Was  graduated  from  Yale  College. 

1852.  Entered  Yale  Divinity  School. 

1854.  July  12.    Was  licensed  to  preach. 

1855.  Finished  Yale  Divinity  School  Course. 

1855.  Entered  Andover  Theological  Seminary. 

1856.  February  6.     Ordained  Pastor  of  Village  Church, 

Dorchester,  Mass. 

1860.  September  1.     Resigned  from  Village  Church. 

1861,  1862,  1863.     Preached  in  many  places  near  Boston 

and  served  churches  in  Jamaica  Plain  and  Haver- 
hill, Mass. 

1864.  January  6.  Installed  Pastor  of  Centre  Church, 
Haverhill,  Mass. 

1864.  October  12.  Was  married  in  Haverhill  to  Elizabeth 
K.  Duncan. 

1869.     November  28.    Resigned  from  Centre  Church. 


xiv  CHRONOLOGY 

December,  1869,  to  April,  1871.  Supplied  in  High  Street 
Church,  Providence,  R.  I. 

1871.  June  14.  Installed  Pastor  of  Eliot  Church,  Law- 
rence, Mass. 

1875.     January.     Resigned  from  Ehot  Church. 

1875.     February.    Went  to  Cahfornia  in  search  of  health. 

1875.  May.     Organized  Church  in  San  Jose,  Cahfornia. 

1876.  August.    Resigned  from  Church  in  San  Jose. 
October,  1876,  to  July,  1877.    Served  Church  in  East  Hart- 
ford, Conn. 

1877.  December  11.     Installed  Pastor  of  Church  in  North 

Adams,  Mass. 
1883.     Received  Degree  of  D.D.  from  IlHnois  College. 

1885.  November  19.     Installed  Pastor  of  United  Church, 

New  Haven,  Conn. 

1886.  October  3.    Death  of  Elizabeth  Duncan  Munger. 
1886-1887.     American  Board  Controversy. 

1887.  Made  Fellow  of  Yale  University. 

1889.     March  5.     Married  Harriet  King  Osgood  of  Salem, 

Mass. 
1898.     Lecturer  at  Harvard  University. 

1900.  Resigned  from  United  Church. 

1901.  Made  Pastor  Emeritus  of  United  Church. 

1904.  Received  Degree  of  D.D.  from  Harvard  University. 

1905.  Elected  Member  of  American  Institute  of  Arts  and 

Letters. 
1905.     Resigned  from  Fellowship  of  Yale  University. 


CHRONOLOGY  xv 

1908.     Received  Degree  of  D.D.  from  Yale  University. 
1910.     January  11.    Death  in  New  Haven. 

1910.  November    1.      Dedication    of   Memorial    Tablet   in 

Woolsey  Hall,  Yale  University. 

1911.  January  15.    Dedication  of  Tablet  in  United  Church. 


SELECTED  WRITINGS 

1860.     Article,  "The  Revival,"  in  The  Congregationalist. 

1870.     Book,    "Memorial    of    James    Henry    Duncan." 
Privately  printed. 
Article,  "A  National  Conference,"  in  The  Con- 
gregationalist. 

1872.     Five  articles,  "The  Lesson  of  the  Strikes,"  in  The 
Congregationalist. 

1874.  Article,  "The  Forgiveness  of  Sins,"  in  The  Corir 

gregationalist. 

1875.  Article,     "Concerning     Maxims,"     in     Scribner's 

Monthly. 

1876.  Sermon,  "Commemorative  of  Dr.  Horace  Bush- 

NELL,"  in  The  Pacific. 

1877.  Statement  of  Belief  before  North  Adams  Council, 

North  Adams  Transcript. 
1880.  Address,  "Vitality,  Character,  Inspiration,"  at 
Andover  Theological  Seminary,  in  The  Inde- 
pendent. 
Book,  "On  the  Threshold,  Familiar  Addresses  to 
Young  People,"  Boston  and  New  York,  Hough- 
ton Mifflin  Company. 


xviii  SELECTED  WRITINGS 

1881.  Sermon,  "John  the  Baptist  and  Carlyle,"  in  The 

Independent. 
Address,  "The  Relation  of  Woman  to  Society," 
Commencement  at  Bradford  Academy,  in  Haver- 
hill Gazette. 

1882.  Address,  "The  Sunday-School  a  Contributoe  to 

the    Church,"    before    Massachusetts    Sunday- 
School  Convention. 
Sermon,   "The   Influence   of  Longfellow  upon 
American  Life,"  in  The  Independent. 

1883.  Book,  "The  Freedom  of  Faith,"  Boston  and  New 

York,  Houghton  Mifflin  Company. 
Book,  "Lamps  and  Paths,"  Boston  and  New  York, 
Houghton  Mifflin  Company. 

1884.  Article,  "Then  and  Now,"  in  The  Independent. 

1885.  Sermon,  "The  Character  of  General  Grant,"  in 

The  Evangelist. 

Article,  "Immortality  and  Modern  Thought,"  in 
The  Century  (reprinted  in  "The  Appeal  to 
Life"). 

Article,  "Life  Not  Death  the  Order  of  Human- 
ity," in  The  Independent. 

Statement  of  Belief  before  Council  in  New  Haven. 

Sermon,  "The  Gates  of  the  Church,"  first  sermon 
as  pastor  of  United  Church. 

1886.  Article,  "Evolution  and  the  Faith,"  in  The  Cen- 

tury (reprinted  in  "The  Appeal  to  Life"). 


SELECTED  WRITINGS  xix 

Article,  "Personal  Impressions  of  Dr.  Elisha 
MuiiFORD,"  in  The  Independent. 

1887.  Book,   "The  Appeal  to   Life,"   Boston   and   New 

York,  Houghton  Miffin  Company. 

Chapter  on  "Study  and  Pulpit"  in  "Parish  Prob- 
lems." 

Address,  "The  Relation  of  Education  to  Social 
Progress,"  Psi  Upsilon  Convention  in  Hartford, 
in  The  Century. 

Article,  "Some  Features  of  the  American  Board 
Controversy,"  in  The  Christian  Union. 

1888.  Article,  "Religion's  Gain  from  Science,"  in  The 

Forum. 

Article,  "The  Works  of  Elisha  Mulford,"  in  The 
Century. 

Article,  "The  University  and  the  Bible,"  in  The 
Century. 

Article,  "Immigration  by  Passport,"  in  The  Cen- 
tury. 

1889.  Article,  "What  Is  the  Missionary  Doing.?"  in  The 

Forum. 

1890.  Sermon,  "Salvation  by  Fellowship,"  in  The  Chris- 

tian Union. 
1892.     Sermon,  "Historical  Discourse  at   150th  Anni- 
versary of  the  LTnited  Church  in  New  Haven." 
Article,  "Hints  on  Exegetical  Preaching,"  in  The 
Homiletic  Review. 


XX  SELECTED  WRITINGS 

Article,  "The  Religious  Influence  of  Whittier," 

in  The  Christian  Union. 
Article,  "Recent  Changes  in  Religious  Thought," 

in  The  Christian  Union. 

1893.  Sermon,  "Phillips  Brooks,"  in  New  Haven  Journal 

and  Courier. 
Article,  "The  Family  as  a  Factor  in  Society,"  in 
The  Congregationalist. 

1894.  Articles,  "How  to  Get  on  in  the  World,"  in  The 

Golden  Rule. 

1895.  Article,  "Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,"  in  The  New 

World. 
Article,  "Music,  Heavenly  Maid,"  in  The  Century 

(included  in  "Essays  for  the  Day"  under  the  name 

"Reflections  of  a  Layman  on  Music). 
Sermon  before  National  Conference  of  Charities  and 

Correction,  published  in  Lend  a  Hand. 

1896.  Booklet,  "The  Rights  of  Dumb   Animals,"  pub- 

lished first  in  The  Christian  World,  London,  and 
afterwards  by  the  Connecticut  Humane  Society. 
Chapter  on  Dr.  Bushnell  in  "The  Prophet  of  the 
Christian  Faith,"  published  first  in  The  Outlook. 

1897.  Book,     "Character     through     Inspiration     and 

Other  Papers,"  Boston  and  New  York,  Houghton 
Mifflin  Company. 
Booklet,  "Plain  Living  and  High  Thinking,"  New 
York,  W.  B.  Ketcham. 


SELECTED  WRITINGS  xxi 

1898.  Address,  "The  Message  of  Christ  to  the  Will," 

Noble  Lecture  at  Harvard  and  afterwards  pub- 
lished in  "The  Message  of  Christ  to  Manhood." 

1899.  Book,  "Horace  Bushnell,  Preacher  and  Theo- 

logian," Boston  and  New  York,  Houghton  Mifflin 
Company. 

1900.  Chapter   in   book,   "The   Atonement   in   Modern 

Religious  Thought,"  by  Frederic  Godet,  pub- 
lished by  Thomas  Whittaker,  New  York. 
Sermon,  "The  Pastorate  of  Rev.  Eleazer  May," 
at  200th  Anniversary  of  Church  in  Haddam,  Conn. 

1901.  Sermon,  "The  Municipal  Church,"  last  sermon  in 

active  pastorate. 
Sermon  at  the  100th  Anniversary  of  the  Church  in 
Homer,  N.  Y. 

1902.  Article,  "Where  We  Are,"  in  The  Congregation- 

alist. 

Article,  "A  Cock  to  ^sculapius,"  in  The  Outlook 
(included  in  "Essays  for  the  Day"). 

Article,  "The  Divinity  School  and  the  Univer- 
sity," in  The  Outlook  and  reprinted  as  booklet. 

Sermon  at  the  75th  Anniversary  of  the  Church  in 
North  Adams. 

Article,  "The  Secret  of  Horace  Bushnell,"  in 
The  Outlook  (included  in  "Essays  for  the  Day"). 

Article,  "Aphorisms  of  Horace  Bushnell,"  in  The 
Congregationalist. 


xxii  SELECTED  WRITINGS 

1903.  Article,    "The    Church  ;    Some   Immediate    Ques- 

tions,"  in    The   Atlantic   Monthly    (included   in 
"Essays  for  the  Day"). 
Article,   "Notes   on   'The   Scaelet   Letter,'  "   in 
The  Atlantic  Monthly  (included  in  "Essays  for  the 
Day"). 

1904.  Book,   "Essays   for   the   Day,"    Boston   and   New 

York,  Houghton  Mifflin  Company. 
Address,  "Organization  a  Factor  in  the  Minis- 
try," at  ordination  of  Rev.  Frank  K.  Sanders, 
and  published  in  Yale  Divinity  Quarterly. 

1905.  Introduction  to  "Telling  Bible  Stories,"  by  Louise 

Seymour  Houghton,  published  by  Charles  Scrib- 
ner's  Sons,  New  York. 

Article,  "Early  Candlelight,"  in  The  Congrega- 
tionalist. 

Article,  "A  Significant  Biography,"  in  The  Atlan- 
tic Monthly. 

Article,  "Why  I  Believe  in  Foreign  Missions,"  in 
The  Envelope  Series. 

1906.  Article,    "An    Old-Time   Hero,"    in    The   Congre- 

gationalist. 
Article,    "Henry    Drummond,"    in    The    Homiletic 
Review. 

1907.  Article,  "Robert  Burns,"  in  Appleton's  Magazine. 
Article,  "Longfellow,  the  Poet  of  the  People," 

in  The  Congregationalist. 


SELECTED  WRITINGS  xxiii 

Article,  "Shakespeare  of  Warwickshire,"  in  The 
Atlantic  Monthly. 
1908.     Article,  "Dr.  Nathaniel  Taylor,"  in  The  Congre- 
gationalist. 


CHAPTER  I 

EARLY  YEARS 

1830-1847 

New  England  has  many  apostolic  successions. 
Among  the  worthiest  of  those  which  are  traced  by- 
mere  outward  and  physical  descent  is  that  of  John 
Eliot,  graduate  of  Cambridge  (England)  in  1623, 
missionary  to  the  Indians  of  Massachusetts  and  pas- 
tor in  Roxbury  from  1632  to  1690.  In  the  fifth 
generation  of  direct  descendants  of  this  "Apostle 
John,"  on  July  22,  1794,  was  born  Ebenezer,  the 
father  of  Theodore  Thornton  Munger,  in  Madison 
(formerly  East  Guilford),  Conn.,  and  was  given  his 
father's  name.  Other  lines  of  distinction  in  New 
England  ancestry,  descending  from  governors  and 
builders  of  the  Commonwealth,  combined  with  that 
of  Eliot  in  the  ancestry  of  Ebenezer  Munger,  but 
Eliot  "the  apostle"  had  chief  reverence. 

As  described  by  the  son,  Theodore  Thornton,  of 
whom  we  write,  Ebenezer  Munger,  Jr.,  was  of  stal- 
wart frame  and  singular  dignity  and  serenity  of 
bearing.    The  son's  memory  of  his  father,  extending 


i8 ■•';•'.•    ;1:KJ::0D0RE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

over  a  period  of  almost  sixty  years,  included  "not  a 
word  that  was  not  kind  in  our  home,  nor  a  hard  word 
outside,  nor  anything  not  comporting  with  good  will, 
dignity  and  the  bearing  of  a  gentleman."  Ebenezer 
Hunger's  nature  was  profoundly  religious,  yet  free 
from  the  rigidity  and  dogmatism  that  characterized 
too  many  of  his  contemporaries.  It  found  congenial 
expression  in  humane  service  rather  than  in  doctrinal 
teaching,  a  lay  ministry  doubtless  all  the  more  effec- 
tive because  given  by  one  whose  professed  calling  was 
that  of  physical  healing. 

The  Mungers  had  been  for  generations  plain 
farmers  of  Guilford,  and  the  exceptional  refinement 
of  one  member  of  the  family  is  not  explained  merely 
by  the  fact  of  a  college  and  professional  education. 
Rather  the  providing  of  these  exceptional  opportuni- 
ties is  itself  a  fact  that  calls  for  explanation.  It  was 
due  to  the  influence  of  Rev.  John  Eliot,  D.D.,  a 
graduate  of  Yale  in  1786  and  himself  also  a  direct 
descendant  in  the  fourth  generation  of  the  apostle  to 
the  Indians.  Eliot  became  pastor  in  1791  of  the 
church  in  East  Guilford  and,  like  many  of  his  col- 
leagues, made  it  part  of  his  duty  as  a  minister  to  select 
the  most  promising  lads  in  his  parish  and  prepare 
them  for  college.  In  this  case  the  lad  was  one  of  his 
own  remoter  kin,  the  common  ancestor  being  Rev. 


EARLY  YEARS  3 

Joseph  Eliot,  son  of  the  apostle,  who  after  gradua- 
tion at  Harvard  in  1658  had  settled  as  minister  in 
Guilford.  This  special  selection  and  training  was  of 
course  intended  to  provide  (in  the  phraseology  of 
the  time)  "a  worthy  and  learned  succession  in  the 
ministry." 

Doubtless  in  this  case  the  pastor  selected  with  dis- 
crimination. Ebenezer  Hunger  had  plenty  of  native 
wit  and  ability;  but  the  dignity  and  refinement  so 
clearly  marked  in  the  pupil's  character  were  qualities 
not  of  mere  deportment  but  ingrained  in  the  moral 
fibre  of  the  man.  They  must  have  been  mainly  a 
product  of  the  personal  training  and  example  of  the 
teacher.' 

The  miscarriage  of  the  good  dominie's  loyal  pur- 
pose thus  to  provide  for  the  future  service  of  the 
church  was  due  to  no  fault  either  of  the  lad,  or  of 
those  to  whom  he  owed  the  advantages  of  an  educa- 
tion at  Yale.  Ebenezer  Hunger's  whole  nature  gave 
sympathetic  response  to  the  influences  thus  brought 
to  bear  upon  it.  His  after  life  was  given  to  a  Christ- 
like ministration  to  souls  as  well  as  bodies.    The  fault 

1  Dr.  John  Eliot  is  described  as  "a  good  classical  scholar,  a  correct, 
serious  preacher,  a  wise,  judicious  and  exemplary  man,  dignified  in  his 
manner,  greatly  esteemed  by  his  own  people,  by  his  brethren  in  the 
ministry  and  by  his  numerous  acquaintances."  Sprague's  "Annals,"  II, 
331. 


4      THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

lay  with  that  persistent  tendency  of  all  forms  of  reli- 
gious life  to  cr5''stallize  in  conventional  types,  which 
soon  become,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  a  standard 
of  measurement.  The  religious  conceptions  of  the 
time  demanded  an  "experience"  corresponding  to  the 
requirements  of  the  current  interpretation  of  Calvin- 
ism. Deep  and  earnest  as  was  the  soul-conflict 
through  which  Ebenezer  Munger  passed  in  the  great 
revival  which  stirred  the  college  during  his  student 
years,  genuine  and  loyal  as  was  his  surrender  to  the 
service  of  Christ,  he  could  not  "come  out"  among 
those  who  professed  assurance  of  their  "election." 
Under  these  circumstances  the  ministry  could  no 
longer  come  under  consideration,  and  after  gradua- 
tion in  1814  Eliot's  protege  became  a  tutor  in  a 
family  in  New  Rochelle,  N.  Y.,  for  a  period  of  two 
years,  and  thereafter  engaged  for  two  further  years 
in  the  study  of  medicine  in  the  College  of  Physicians 
and  Surgeons  in  New  York  City,  where  he  received 
the  degree  of  M.D.  in  1818. 

It  may  be  conjectured  that  Ebenezer  Plunger's 
acquaintance  with  Cjmthia  Selden,  who  on  the  last 
day  of  the  year  1818  became  his  wife,  had  its  begin- 
ning in  his  undergraduate  years.  For  Cynthia, 
daughter  of  Rev.  David  Selden  (Yale  1782)  of 
Middle  Haddam,  Conn.,  was  twenty- two  years  of 


EARLY  YEARS  5 

age  at  the  time  of  Ebenezer's  graduation^  and  had 
attended  boarding  school,  together  with  her  sister,  in 
New  Haven.  In  the  same  year  that  the  young  medi- 
cal student  received  his  New  York  degree,  we  find 
him  consulting  the  Rev.  David  Selden  by  letter  as  to 
the  availability  of  Haddam  as  a  place  of  settlement 
for  a  young  physician ;  and  as  the  reply  is  a  dissuasion 
of  the  applicant,  we  may  suspect  that  the  minister's 
daughter  had  as  much  to  do  with  the  young  man's 
choice  of  this  unfavorable  location  as  the  sani- 
tary needs  of  the  parish.  On  December  31  of  the 
same  year,  at  all  events,  the  bride  was  brought  to  the 
new  home  in  Haddam. 

Cynthia  Selden  inherited,  in  higher  degree  than 
her  husband,  the  quahties  and  traditions  of  the  New 
England  ministry;  and  this  not  on  her  father's  side 
alone.  Her  mother,  Cynthia  May  Selden,  was  the 
daughter  of  Rev.  Eleazer  May  (Yale  1752),  pastor 
for  forty-seven  years  of  the  First  Church  in  Haddam, 
Conn.,^  and  this  Cynthia,  like  her  daughter  after  her, 
had  but  crossed  the  river  to  her  husband's  roof;  for 
the  parish  of  Middle  Haddam,  where  Cynthia  May 
Selden  had  trained  her  daughter  in  the  ways  becom- 

2  She  was  born  in  Chatham,  Conn.,  March  14,  1791. 

3  Eleazer  May,  born  in  Wethersfield  in  1733,  was  a  descendant  of  John 
May,  born  in  Sussex  in  1590.  He  married  Sibyl  Hmitington  of  Lebanon, 
Conn.,  in  1754. 


6      THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ing  a  minister's  household,  lies  on  the  east  bank  but  a 
very  few  miles  above  Hadlyme,  the  ancestral  home 
of  the  Seldens  since  the  settlement  of  this  portion  of 
the  state/ 

Both  inwardly  and  outwardly  the  descendant  of 
this  old  Connecticut  stock  of  whom  we  write  seemed 
to  gravitate  toward  the  home  of  his  ancestors. 
During  his  college  days  at  Yale,  and  later  when 
settled  over  Massachusetts  parishes,  he  took  interest 
and  pleasure  in  visiting  the  scenes  of  his  parents' 
early  life,  and  more  particularly  the  picturesque 
farming  villages  on  the  Connecticut  River,  where 
many  of  his  Selden  relatives  continued  to  live.  For 
it  was  with  the  Seldens  that  Theodore  Hunger  felt 
the  bond  of  deeper  affinity.  His  chief  spiritual 
confidante  in  boyhood  was  his  mother,  and  she 
remained  such  long  after  his  father's  death  in  1857, 
his  letters  to  her  reporting  regularly  in  this  period  all 
the  vicissitudes  and  aspirations  of  his  ministry  down 
to  her  death  in  1868. 

4  Thomas  Selden  of  Hartford  was  the  first  of  the  name  in  America. 
The  only  other  emigrants  of  the  name,  so  far  as  known,  were  Isaac,  who 
settled  in  Windsor,  Conn.,  in  1639,  leaving  no  issue,  and  John,  who  came 
to  Virginia  in  1690.  Thomas  Selden  was  one  of  the  original  company  who 
came  to  Hartford  with  Thomas  Hooker  in  1636.  Joseph  Selden, 
youngest  son  of  Thomas  the  emigrant,  bought  of  Governor  Levcrett  in 
January,  1695,  a  large  tract  of  land  situated  in  the  towns  of  Lyme  and 
Haddam.  This  settlement  became  the  seat  of  the  Selden  family,  and 
from  its  border  location  received  the  name  of  Hadlyme. 


EARLY  YEARS  7 

The  old-time  sturdy  democracy  of  New  England, 
while  appreciative  of  its  own  blue  blood,  looks 
askance  at  pride  of  ancestry  unsupported  by  corre- 
sponding personal  worth.  In  like  manner  New  Eng- 
land Puritanism  is  intolerant  of  every  kind  of  eccle- 
siastical aristocracy.  The  qualities  of  the  typical 
New  England  minister  may  in  part  explain  them- 
selves to  the  genealogist  in  terms  of  tradition  and 
descent,  but  Congregational  ordaining  councils  are 
not  thus  minded.  Their  apostolic  succession  is  ever 
traced,  "not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  spirit."  The 
true  New  England  minister  is  such  by  the  grace  of 
God  and  in  his  own  right,  if  at  all.  His  priesthood  is 
that  of  Melchizedek  "without  father,  without  mother, 
without  a  genealogy."  To  justify  the  title,  "New 
England  Minister,"  we  must  turn,  then,  to  a  more 
spiritual  succession. 

Theodore  Thornton  was  the  fifth  child  of  Ebenezer 
and  Cynthia  Selden  Hunger,  and  was  born  March 
5,  1830,  not  in  Connecticut,  but  on  the  banks  of 
the  Susquehanna,  at  Bainbridge,  Chenango  County, 
N.  Y.  For  three  years  the  young  physician, 
Ebenezer,  had  been  content  to  remain  among  the  pic- 
turesque rocks  and  wooded  hills  of  his  wife's  ancestral 
home,  where  the  great  river  of  New  England,  as  if 
loath  to  leave  the  beauty  of  her  granite  cliffs,  winds 


8      THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

in  and  out  among  the  most  seductive  glens  and 
reaches  of  all  its  course  before  losing  itself  a  few  miles 
below  in  the  sea.  The  records  of  the  "Young  Men's 
Bible  and  JNIissionary  Society"  of  Haddam  in  the 
years  1819  and  1820  show  that  if  the  young  doctor 
found  small  occasion  for  his  medical  skill,  he  could 
find  and  avail  himself  of  opportunities  to  promote  the 
moral  and  religious  welfare  of  the  community,  though 
both  he  and  his  wife  were  still  outside  the  formal 
membership  of  the  church. 

These  were  the  days  when  hardy  settlers  from 
New  England  were  rapidly  occupying  the  still  virgin 
territory  of  the  Military  Tract  (as  it  was  called)  of 
central  and  southern  New  York.  Lands  granted  in 
1782  by  the  State  of  New  York  to  soldiers  of  the 
Revolution  had  remained  but  sparselj^  settled  until, 
at  the  close  of  the  War  of  1812,  a  company  of  New 
England  emigrants  cut  down  the  thick  forests  and 
planted  the  rich  meadows  on  the  central  plateau  of 
the  state.  To  this  region  of  new  settlements  by  the 
upper  waters  of  the  Susquehanna  and  Chenango 
rivers,  Ebenezer  Hunger  felt  himself  irresistibly 
drawn.  The  young  physician,  as  the  son  has  phrased 
it,  "was  himself  seized  with  a  fever  for  which  neither 
his  medicines  nor  the  tears  of  his  wife  availed.  It  was 
a  contagious  and  widely  spread  disease,  and  was 


EARLY  YEARS  9 

known  as  the  Western  fever.  "^  The  young  couple, 
with  an  infant  daughter,  Cjmthia,  born  to  them  in 
Haddam,  September  24,  1819,  traveled  by  wagon  to 
the  little  town  of  Bainbridge,  and  settled  there  for  a 
period  of  fifteen  years  on  a  farm  extending  to  the 
very  brink  of  the  broad  Susquehanna.  Six  children 
were  born  here,  David  Selden  (December  25,  1824), 
Elizabeth  Selden  (October  4,  1826),  John  Hunt- 
ington (February  26,  1828),  Theodore  Thornton 
(March  5,  1830),  John  Hezekiah  (April  22,  1832), 
and  Edward  Payson  (January  24,  1834).  Of  these 
Elizabeth  and  John  died  too  early  to  be  remembered 
by  the  next  younger,  save  for  the  grief  of  his  parents 
witnessed  at  the  parting  from  the  little  graves.  For 
in  1836  Ebenezer  Munger,  feeling  the  need  of  better 
schools  for  his  boys,  removed  to  Homer,  N.  Y. 

Though  Theodore  was  but  six  years  of  age  at  this 
time  of  removal,  memories  of  Bainbridge  and  the 
river  remained  permanently  impressed  upon  his 
mind.  His  first  experience  of  fear  came  when,  stray- 
ing to  the  river  bank,  his  childish  feet  turned  back 
with  instinctive  sense  of  peril  when  but  a  step  from 
death.  His  first  conscious  sense  of  beauty  was  awak- 
ened by  the  gleam  of  firelight  on  steel,  as  the  skaters 

5  Address  at  the  two  hundredth  anniversary  of  Haddam  Congrega- 
tional Church,  1900,  p.  70. 


10  THEODORE  THORNTON  IMUNGER 

flashed  on  a  wintry  night  past  the  fires  built  here  and 
there  on  the  wide  expanse  of  ice.  From  the  windows 
of  the  porch  the  little  boy  watched  with  dreamj^  eyes 
in  spring  the  great  rafts  go  floating  by  laden  with 
boards  and  logs  and  topped  with  a  shanty  for  the 
crew. 

And  scarcely  later  than  this  first  sense  of  fear, 
welded  with  that  of  beauty,  came  the  awakening  of 
the  intellectual  and  the  moral  sense.  To  the  child's 
mind  the  road  which  crossed  the  bridge  eastward  just 
beyond  the  farm  seemed  to  lead  up  to  a  solid  vault  of 
blue.  Men  passed,  and  disappeared  beyond  the  hori- 
zon into  the  unknown.  Ah,  the  triumph  of  knight- 
errantry  when  "brother  Selden,"  a  boy  of  nine,  was 
commissioned  to  ride  forth  on  horseback  over  the 
bridge,  along  the  road,  till,  a  speck  in  the  far  distance, 
he  reached  and  passed  through  that  blue  and  solid 
vault.  And  when  the  lost  brother  returned,  trotting 
gaily  homeward,  with  never  a  word  to  explain  how 
he  "broke  his  way  alone  through  a  solid  blue  sky,"  the 
joy  and  wonderment  were  not  less,  in  proportion,  than 
when  Columbus  returned  to  the  cheering  crowds  of 
Spain  from  beyond  the  edge  of  the  world. 

This  childhood's  Eden  had  also  its  fall  of  man.  The 
culprit,  by  his  own  account,  was  "somewhere  hesitat- 
ing between  infancy  and  first  school-going,"  in  short, 


EARLY  YEARS  11 

"at  that  rare  point  where  apples  are  perfect."  Theo- 
dore was  given  two,  "one  for  the  teacher  and  one 
might  be  eaten  by  myself.  On  my  return  from  school 
I  was  asked  if  I  had  given  one  to  the  teacher.  I 
answered  that  I  had.  But  I  had  eaten  one,  and  I  had 
throW7i  the  other  over  the  fence/'  Yet  with  all  the 
blackness  of  the  offense,  and  all  the  vividness  of  the 
memory,  the  culprit,  reckless  of  conventional  ethics, 
persisted  to  his  life's  end  in  a  refusal  to  admit  the  sin- 
fulness of  his  sin.  "The  reason  I  told  this  lie  was  that 
I  wanted  to  please  my  mother,  whom  I  truly  loved. 
...  I  did  not  feel  the  sin  because  I  did  not  under- 
stand it ;  that  is,  it  was  not  to  me  a  sin."  It  was  not  by 
an  awakening  of  the  sense  of  guilt  that  truthfulness 
came  to  be  second  nature  to  the  lad.  The  doctrines  of 
original  sin  and  moral  reprobation  had  barred  Eben- 
ezer  Munger  from  the  ministr}^  but  his  own  home  re- 
mained free  from  their  gloomy  shadows.  The  morbid 
features  of  emotional  excitement  which  it  was  the 
tendency  of  these  doctrines  to  promote  in  the  age 
succeeding  upon  the  Great  Awakening  of  Edwards' 
day,  he  openly  resisted.  When  the  community  where 
he  lived  was  swept  again  and  again,  like  so  many  of 
that  period  and  region,  by  waves  of  religious  excite- 
ment usually  succeeded  by  demoralized  reaction,  it 
was  "the  merchant  (a  congenial  and  cultured  friend) 


12     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

and  the  doctor,"  who  were  the  notorious  dampeners 
of  the  enthusiasm.  And  yet  none  was  more  actively 
and  persistently  engaged  than  this  same  doctor  in 
labor  for  the  steady  promotion  of  the  moral  and  reli- 
gious welfare  of  the  cormnunity.  "As  for  Eve  and 
wicked  children  and  natural  wickedness  and  sin  as  a 
crime  of  nature,"  writes  Dr.  Hunger  in  his  latest 
years,  "I  was  brought  up  in  the  midst  of  it,  but  never 
did  I  hear  or  imbibe  from  my  parents  a  teaching  nor 
a  suggestion  on  the  subject."  In  the  sunny  atmos- 
phere of  a  household  where  the  father's  voice  meant 
always  "kindness,  good  will  and  dignity,"  and  the 
mother's  leading  traits  were  "love  of  the  home" 
and  a  cheerfulness  amounting  to  gayety,  truthfulness 
became  a  simple  growth  of  nature.  To  him  it  was 
not  a  mark  of  goodness,  or  virtue,  or  education;  he 
could  not  even  remember  if  he  was  ever  taught  it. 
It  came  as  the  unconscious  heritage  of  a  childhood 
where  the  first  tendrils  of  human  association  had  met, 
not  bruises  and  rebuffs,  but  only  a  gentle  and  helpful 
support. 

One  other  impression  of  those  earliest  years  is 
recorded.  Only  that  of  "a  delightful  afternoon, 
when  two  doctors  and  their  wives  and  children  met 
and  had  a  heavenly  time."  With  it  blends  the  remem- 
brance of  a  similar  occasion  of  somewhat  later  years 


EARLY  YEARS  13 

and  justifies  the  adjective.  "They  closed  the  after- 
noon before  the  sun  had  set  with  reading  from  the 
Bible  by  my  father  and  prayer  from  Deacon ." 

In  such  a  moral  and  religious  atmosphere  the 
nature  of  the  child  developed,  freely  and  normally, 
in  singular  immunity  from  the  morbid  influences 
affecting  all  too  widely  the  religious  thought  and  life 
of  the  period.  Bushnell's  great  revolt  against  them 
was  still  to  come,  but  in  his  own  childhood  experience 
Bushnell's  later  champion  and  biographer  was  learn- 
ing alreadj"  the  values  "Christian  Nurture"  had  to 
offer  over  against  the  conventionalized  and  artificial 
revivalism  of  the  age. 

In  1836,  Dr.  Ebenezer  Munger  removed  his  family 
from  Bainbridge  to  the  town  of  Homer  in  the  pictur- 
esque valley  of  the  Tioughnioga  River.  The  settle- 
ment had  been  made  in  1791  by  Connecticut  pioneers, 
the  first  of  whom  were  Amos  Todd  and  Joseph  Beebe 
of  New  Haven,  Mrs.  Beebe,  the  only  woman  of  the 
party,  being  the  sister  of  Todd.  Forty-five  years 
had  developed  the  primitive  lodge  in  the  forest  by 
many  accessions,  principally  from  Massachusetts^ 
and  Connecticut.  These  had  brought  with  them  the 
typical  institutions  of  New  England,  the  schoolhouse 

6  Brimfield,  Mass.,  was  the  mother  town  of  a  majority  of  the  early 
settlers. 


14     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

and  the  Congregational  Church.  It  was  mainly  for 
the  sake  of  the  former  that  the  physician-scholar- 
farmer  of  Bainbridge  selected  Homer  as  the  place  in 
which  to  bring  up  his  growing  family.  He  at  first 
took  up  his  residence  in  the  town  itself. 

Six-year-old  Theodore  well  remembered  that  jour- 
ney, made  by  wagon  over  rough  roads,  leading  domes- 
tic animals,  and  accompanied  by  all  their  modest 
goods.  He  remembered  the  Homer  village  "green" 
with  its  two  churches  and  its  academy  as  the  little 
party  first  saw  it,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion  com- 
pared the  impression  of  architectural  grandeur  then 
made  upon  his  mind  with  that  experienced  when  first 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  Houses  of  Parliament 
and  Westminster  Abbey — much  to  the  disadvantage 
of  the  latter. 

After  a  few  years  of  practice  in  the  town  itself,  Dr. 
Munger  bought  a  farm  three  miles  outside,  up  tlie 
valley  of  the  Tioughnioga  River.  It  was  a  beautiful 
stretch  of  land,  reaching  back  onto  wooded  hills,  and 
down  to  the  brink  of  the  little  stream,  and  here  the 
boy  Theodore  learned  to  love  nature  and  the  simple 
life  with  a  deep  and  enduring  love.  Like  his  father, 
he  was  always  a  reader,  but  he  early  became  also  a 
thinker.  The  later  habit  of  meditation  was  in  his 
own  mind  connected  with  the  quiet  hours  of  this 


EARLY  YEARS  15 

period  of  his  boyhood,  when  he  would  wander  away- 
alone,  up  on  the  hill-slope,  and,  lying  in  the  warm  sun- 
shine, would  "lose  himself  in  the  thought  of  God." 

The  home  surroundings  on  the  farm  in  the  Tiough- 
nioga  valley  were  of  the  plainest  and  simplest ;  for  all 
the  years  of  Ebenezer  Munger's  life  were  years  of 
toil  to  earn  subsistence  for  a  dependent  family.  They 
had  none  of  the  humiliation,  however,  that  attends 
the  limitation  of  slender  means  in  these  more  modern 
times  of  plutocratic  social  distinctions.  They  were 
Hmitations  common  to  all  the  social  group.  Farm 
occupations  and  the  outdoor  life  were  the  normal 
condition,  and  their  tasks  were  congenial  to  the 
nature-loving  boy.  His  whole  soul  was  open  to  the 
beautiful.  He  loved  his  simple  home,  and  in  later 
life  felt  a  pathetic  longing  to  return  to  it  again  and 
again.  The  father  practiced  medicine  and  worked 
his  farm,  but  not  without  the  wider  interest  we  should 
anticipate  from  one  of  his  ideals  and  training.  He 
was  also  a  self-constituted  missionary,  driving  for 
miles  around  and  lending  books  and  papers  to  the 
people  on  distant  farms. 

Farm  duties  and  simple  household  tasks  fell  nat- 
urally to  the  lot  of  the  boys,  but  there  was  no  irksome 
toil.  The  memory  in  after  years  of  climbing  in  sum- 
mer the  high  hill-slope  before  sunrise  to  drive  the 


16     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

cows  down  to  the  milking,  had  only  associations  with 
the  wholesome  gladness  of  life.  Warming  his  small, 
bare  feet  in  the  grass  where  some  cow  had  lain,  the 
boy  would  stand  and  drink  in  all  the  beauty  of  cloud- 
drift  below  in  the  valley  and  the  sky  brightening  in 
the  east. 

School  associations,  too,  were  of  the  wholesome 
type.  In  choosing  Homer  as  a  good  place  for  the 
education  of  his  sons,  the  college-bred  doctor  had 
made  no  mistake.  Its  people  were  a  homogeneous 
community,  alike  in  character  and  condition,  strongly 
marked  with  the  traits  of  the  "land  of  steady  habits" 
from  which  they  had  come.  They  were  New  Eng- 
landers  from  and  of  New  England,  and  centred  the 
interests  of  their  life  around  church  and  school,  as 
their  village  itself  clustered  around  "meeting-house" 
and  "academy"  on  the  central  "green."  It  was  a 
saying  in  the  "Military  Tract" — itself  largely  peo- 
pled by  the  same  stock — "If  you  wish  to  settle  among 
religionists,  go  to  Homer."  In  the  days  when,  under 
the  one-sided  "Plan  of  Union,"  hundreds  of  Congre- 
gational churches  in  this  region  and  to  the  westward 
were  absorbed  into  the  Presbyterian  organization, 
Homer  stood  among  the  few  that  refused  to  give  up 
New  England  independency,  even  under  threat  of 


EARLY  YEARS  17 

being  cut  off  from  fellowship  if  within  a  given  time 
they  did  not  "perfect  their  relation  to  Presbjrtery." 
Until  October,  1833,  the  church  had  been  under 
the  charge  of  Rev.  John  Keep,  of  whom  Dr.  Munger 
himself  testified  in  1901  at  the  centennial  anniversary 
of  the  church: 

I  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  him  not  only  the  greatest 
of  your  pastors,  but  the  most  effective  citizen  the  town  has 
known ;  a  man  who  left  here  an  impress  deeper,  and  in  more 
ways,  than  anyone  who  has  dwelt  long  among  you.  He  is 
not  to  be  estimated  by  his  native  qualities  of  energy,  zeal 
and  fidelity,  but  by  his  ability  to  measure  the  questions  that 
were  coming  to  the  front  in  both  church  and  state,  his  clear 
insight  into  their  meaning  and  their  drift,  and  his  cour- 
age and  wisdom  in  maintaining  them  alone  and  under  an 
opposition  which  led  to  ostracism.' 

The  "questions  of  church  and  state"  that  agitated 
the  little  conmiunity  of  Homer  jointly  with  many 
larger  ones  in  Theodore's  boyhood  days  were  respec- 
tively the  theological  question  of  the  freedom  of  the 

7  "Centennial  Manual  of  Congregational  Church,"  Homer,  N.  Y.,  1901, 
p.  12ff.  Subsequently  in  The  Congregationalist  for  September  22,  1906, 
Dr.  Munger  published  a  review  of  the  life  of  Rev.  John  Keep  under  the 
title,  "An  Old-time  Hero."  In  this  it  is  shown  how  "Father  Keep,"  as 
president  of  the  original  board  of  trustees  of  Oberlin  College,  and  chief 
financial  agent,  became  through  his  heroic  sacrifice  and  tireless  energy 
the  savior  of  the  institution. 


18     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

will,  with  its  practical  corollaries  of  activity  or  quiet- 
ism in  accordance  with  Arminian  or  Cah-inistic  lean- 
ings respectively;  and  the — if  possible — still  more 
acrimonious  antislavery  agitation.  On  both  "Father 
Keep,"  as  he  came  to  be  called,  had  displayed  the 
intense  energy  and  conviction  of  the  man  of  action. 
We  may  quote  again  from  Dr.  Munger's  characteri- 
zation : 

He  was  a  thorough-going  radical,  a  stout  fighter,  a  close 
reasoner,  of  boundless  enthusiasm  and  tireless  industry.  But 
especially  he  was  a  humanitarian,  of  a  type  that  had  just 
appeared,  yet  had  won  no  recognition  save  at  Oberlin,  and 
here  and  there  at  the  East  where  it  was  undergoing  persecu- 
tion. As  I  look  back  upon  him,  I  think  he  was  at  least  half 
a  century  ahead  of  his  da3^  His  piety  was  not  the  piety  of 
the  time  and  the  region.  The  saint  of  that  day  was  one 
who  prayed  much,  and  meditated  and  fed  his  soul  on  the 
divine  sovereignty,  and  waited  for  the  Holy  Spirit  to  come 
and  more  fully  bless  him.  May  the  type  never  die  out;  stiU 
there  is  a  higher  type  that  needs  also  the  other.  Father 
Keep  had  caught  sight  of  this  new  type — let  me  call  it  the 
humanitarian  type — the  type  of  action  rather  than  of 
meditation — and  set  it  at  work  almost  before  its  time.* 

The  characterization  of  Father  Keep  is  based  in 
part  upon  a  sermon  which  had  been  criticised  for 

8  "Centennial  Manual  of  Congregational  Church,"  Homer,  N.  Y.,  1901. 


EARLY  YEARS  19 

bringing  young  people  into  the  church  at  an  earlier 
age  than  had  been  usual.  Father  Keep  contended  in 
language  that  was  to  find  echo  fourteen  years  later® 
from  New  England's  hills,  that  "the  church  is  a 
mother" ;  that  "the  design  of  the  church  is  to  form  a 
nursery  for  spiritual  children." 

Father  Keep's  humanitarian  impress  on  the  politi- 
cal thought  of  Homer  may  be  judged  by  the  follow- 
ing reminiscence  of  the  boy  Theodore  of  an  occur- 
rence during  the  ministry  of  Rev.  Dennis  Piatt, 
Father  Keep's  successor.  Simeon  S.  Bradford,  who 
may  or  may  not  have  been  descended  from  the  May- 
flower Governor,  had  been  Father  Keep's  sole  con- 
vert to  his  antislavery  views: 

Notices  of  antislavery  meetings  were  not  given  in  church 
during  Mr.  Piatt's  ministry;  had  he  given  such  notices  his 
pulpit  would  soon  have  been  vacant.  At  the  close  of  a 
service  on  a  Sunday  morning,  after  the  benediction  had  been 
pronounced,  Simeon  Bradford  rose  in  his  pew  and  in  a  clear 
ringing  voice — I  can  hear  it  yet,  though  it  was  more  than 
sixty  years  ago — gave  notice  that  "An  antislavery  meeting 
will  be  held  in  the  schoolhouse  near  Factory  Hill  on  Monday 
evening  at  early  candle-light;  all  are  invited  to  attend." 
Mr.  Piatt  reddened  in  the  face  but  wisely  said  nothing.    The 

9  The  sermon  is  dated  in  1833,  fourteen  years  before  Bushnell's  famous 
book  on  "Christian  Nurture." 


20     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

people  looked  at  one  another  in  mild  surprise;  some  faintly 
smiled,  but  all  respected  Simeon  Bradford/" 

In  the  evening  time  of  his  own  life  we  find  our 
New  England  minister  recalling  not  only  the  quaint 
phrase  "at  early  candle-light,"  but  that  institution 
that  has  meant  so  much  to  the  religious  life  of  our 
rural  communities,  the  evening  meeting  in  the  school- 
houses  distant  from  the  villages. 

How  simple  it  is!  A  square  building  put  together  as  if 
spirited  out  of  the  near-by  forest  from  which  its  timbers 
are  hewn,  and  yet  with  a  certain  solidity  that  implies  dignity 
and  purpose.  Within  are  pine  benches,  with  some  variation 
of  height  for  older  and  younger;  a  desk  slightly  elevated 
where  the  teacher  presides,  and  a  box  stove  at  the  centre 
to  subdue  the  storms  of  winter.  This,  and  nothing  more, 
but  here  are  found  two  chief  things  that  vast  numbers  of 
the  American  people  have  learned — to  think  and  to  pray. 
The  vaguely  named  hour  has  come.  Each  householder  brings 
a  candle,  and  two  are  placed  on  the  desk  that  serves  as  a 
pulpit.  Ten  or  twenty  more  stand  on  the  line  of  benches 
until  the  room  is  dehvered  out  of  darkness,  yet  hardly  more. 
But  this  was  as  it  should  be.  The  Puritan  was  sometimes 
forced  out  of  his  opinions  by  chance  of  circumstance.  He 
built  his  meetinghouse  on  a  hill,  without  a  tree  to  over- 
shadow it,  its  windows  broad  open  to  the  sun  and  uncur- 

10  "Centennial  Manual  of  Congregational  Churdi,"  Homer,  N.  Y.,  1901. 


EARLY  YEARS  21 

tained;  for  he  would  let  no  ray  of  light  fail  to  shine  on  his 
life  or  his  faith.  But  when  he  worshiped  God  at  night,  by 
dint  of  necessity  he  bowed  in  light  as  dim  as  that  in  monastic 
aisles,  without  realizing  how  near  he  came  to  what  his  fathers 
had  reprobated/^ 

Scenes  such  as  these  need  poets'  thought  and  paint- 
ers' art  to  do  justice  to  their  deeper  beauty  and  sig- 
nificance. But  we  must  pass  to  other  phases  of  the 
lad's  life,  and  agencies  which  more  directly  developed 
his  capacity  and  character. 

Homer's  schools  were  as  typical  as  its  church.  We 
are  fortunate  in  having  a  description,  written  by  a 
distinguished  schoolmate,  of  the  particular  district 
school  attended  by  himself  and  the  Munger  boys. 
The  writer  is  the  portrait  painter  and  author,  Francis 
Bicknell  Carpenter,  to  whom  we  owe,  among  other 
paintings  of  national  interest,  the  well-known  picture 
of  the  Signing  of  the  Emancipation  Proclamation 
now  hanging  in  the  Capitol  at  Washington.  Mr. 
Carpenter's  article  on  "The  Old  Schoolhouse"  was 
written  at  the  time  of  its  demolition.  It  has  interest 
to  Americans  of  the  older  generation  as  recalling  a 
typical  institution.  Multitudes  of  these  remember 
with  gratitude  the  "district  school,"  an  evidence  of 

11  From  an  article  entitled  "Early  Candle-light"  in  The  Congregation- 
alist  of  November  25,  1905. 


22     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

the  Puritan's  determination  to  hold  fast  the  wealth 
of  intellectual  refinement  even  in  the  rude  environ- 
ment of  the  frontier.  The  description  possesses  a 
peculiar  interest  for  us,  as  reflecting  school-day  mem- 
ories of  Theodore  Munger  and  his  lifelong  friend. 
The  very  list  of  names — thej^  are  largely  of  Connecti- 
cut stock — is  rich  in  associations,  and  shows  clearly 
the  character  of  the  community.  Carpenter's  pen- 
picture  is  as  follows : 

For  three  years,  summer  and  winter,  we  trudged  a  mile 
to  school,  with  books  and  dinner-basket,  and  back  at  night, 
in  all  sorts  of  weather,  severe  enough  sometimes  in  winter 
to  freeze  ears  and  toes.   .    .    . 

What  a  crowd  of  boys  and  girls  used  to  meet  within 
those  brick  walls  in  those  days !  The  Woolworths,  Samuel, 
James,  Sophia  and  Calvin:  the  Shermans,  Byron,  Porter, 
Edward  and  Mary,  the  last  named  the  flower  of  the  school, 
whose  moss-rose  beauty  made  her  favor  the  object  of  con- 
tention among  all  the  juvenile  boys  of  the  front  "bench"; 
the  Hungers,  Selden,  Theodore,  Hezekiah;  tlie  Bristols, 
Mary,  John  and  Charles;  the  Woodwards,  Ophelia,  Henri- 
etta and  Maria;  Matthew  Barker's  children,  James,  George 
and  Amanda ;  Stephen  Barker's  children,  George  Wesley  and 
Ann ;  Warren  Parker  and  his  cousin  Belle  Goddard ;  the 
Hobarts,  Flavilla,  Duran,  DcForrest;  John  Keep,  and 
Duane ;  Lemuel  and  Charles  Bates ;  Emma  Canfield,  David 


EARLY  YEARS  2S 

Hannum;  .  .  .  the  Griswolds,  Maria  and  Esther;  the 
Welches,  Martha  Jane,  and  Maria ;  Austin  Hitchcock, 
Rodney  Marsh,  Joseph  Alden,  who  went  with  a  crutch ;  .  .  . 
Hartley  Perry  Wallace,  who  was  drowned  in  the  pond; 
WiUiam  Coburn,  William  King,  whose  early  death  together 
with  the  drowning  of  Hartley  Perry  Wallace,  cast  a  shadow 
over  our  young  lives ;  Riley  and  Malvina  Brewer,  who  hved 
near  the  bridge  above  the  schoolhouse ;  the  Stillman  boys, 
liring  in  the  Miner  house,  one  of  whom  showed  the  writer 
how  to  make  his  first  kite;  the  Fox  sisters,  Wilhelmina  and 
Ehza,  Charlotte  Doty,  Helen,  Frank  and  DeWitt  Carpenter, 
Catharine  Lynde,  Ehza,  Dwight  and  Timothy  Piatt.  The 
best  scholar  of  those  days  was  Martius  Lynde,  who  took  the 
prize  offered  by  Erastus  Phillips  for  the  best  scholarship. 

The  list  is  long,  but  to  its  author  manifestly  not  a 
dry  one.  Nor  should  it  be  even  for  strangers.  Keep 
is  a  name  we  recognize.  Woolworth  is  one  we  are 
soon  to  hear  again.  Griswold,  Bristol,  Welch, 
Marsh,  Lynde,  and  Hitchcock  have  a  familiar  ring 
in  Connecticut  ears,  and  harmonize  well  with  that 
of  Alden,  while  David  Hannum,  thinly  disguised  as 
Harum,  has  become  for  modern  readers  the  typical 
"York-State  Yankee." 

Before  promotion  came  from  "district  school"  to 
"academy,"  perhaps  even  before  the  old  brick  school- 
house   days,   another   lifelong   friendship    had   been 


24  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

formed.  Its  object  was  destined  to  be  college-mate  at 
Yale  as  well  as  schoolmate  in  Homer,  and  the  most 
distinguished  member  of  Yale's  most  distinguished 
class.  Next  to  Frank  Carpenter,  the  place  of  honor 
in  Theodore's  heart  among  his  schoolboy  friends  was 
accorded  to  Andrew  D.  White.  The  sentiment  of 
mutual  devotion  was  only  marred  by  the  secret  en\y 
cherished  by  Theodore  for  Andrew's  red-topped 
boots,  silently  reciprocated  by  Andrew  for  Theo- 
dore's "camlet"  cloak. 

The  friendship  was  not  to  be  continued  in  the 
Academy;  for  before  that  period  of  the  boys'  career 
the  Whites  had  moved  away.  Nevertheless  it  is  to  no 
other  pen  than  that  of  the  famous  scholar,  educator, 
and  diplomat  that  we  owe  the  following  description 
of  Homer  Academy,  sufficiently  explaining  why 
Ebenezer  Munger  should  have  turned  to  Homer,  as 
the  town  offering  the  best  attainable  educational 
advantages : 

To  Cortland  Academy  students  came  from  far  and  near; 
and  it  soon  began  sending  young  men  into  the  foremost 
places  of  State  and  Church.  At  an  early  day,  too,  it  began 
receiving  young  women,  and  sending  them  forth  to  become 
the  best  of  matrons.  As  my  family  left  the  place  when  I 
was  seven  years  old  I  was  never  within  its  walls  as  a  student, 
but  it  acted  powerfully  on  my  education  in  two  ways,  it 


EARLY  YEARS  25 

gave  my  mother  the  best  of  her  education,  and  it  gave  me 
a  respect  for  scholarship.  The  library  and  collections, 
though  small,  suggested  pursuits  better  than  the  scramble 
for  place  or  pelf;  the  public  exercises  two  or  three  times 
a  year  led  my  thoughts,  no  matter  how  vaguely,  into  higher 
regions,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the  awe  which  came  over 
me,  when,  as  a  child,  I  saw  Principal  Woolworth,  with  his 
best  students  around  him  on  the  green,  making  astronomical 
observations  through  a  small  telescope/^ 

Dr.  Hunger's  own  testimony  to  the  Academy  as  a 
whole  in  its  social  influence,  and  in  particular  to  that 
of  Dr.  Woolworth,  is  not  less  emphatic.  As  to  the 
latter.  Dr.  Munger  writes  in  the  sketch  of  his  life 
prepared  in  1893  for  the  history  of  his  class  at  Yale: 

I  remember  with  especial  gratitude  my  teachers.  Principal 
S[amuel]  B.  Woolworth,  LL.D.,  and  Rev.  Dr.  Henry  A. 
Nelson,  and  my  pastor,  Rev.  Thomas  K.  Fessenden — all  able 
and  high-minded  men. 

As  regards  the  institution  we  may  be  permitted 
to  quote  again  from  a  source  already  repeatedly- 
employed  : 

12  "Autobiography  of  Andrew  D.  White,"  1905,  Vol.  I,  p.  6.  In  the 
above  extract  President  White  correctly  refers  to  the  institution  as 
"Cortland"  Academy.  The  explanation  is  given  by  Dr.  Munger  on  p.  16 
of  the  "Centennial  Manual"  above  quoted.  "It  was  named  for  the  county 
and  so  was  caUed  Cortland  Academy;  but  it  was  built  in  and  by  Homer. 
It  should  be  said,  however,  that  Homer  embraced  (until  1829)  what  is 
now  Cortland." 


26     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

The  unbroken  tradition  of  New  England  to  this  day  is 
that  the  church  and  the  school  go  together.  First  a  college, 
in  order  that  the  church  might  have  a  learned  as  well  as 
godly  ministry.  Homer  could  not  have  a  college,  but  it 
would  come  as  near  it  as  possible,  and  so — twenty  yea.Ts 
after  the  church  was  organized — secured  a  charter  for  an 
Academy.  It  was  New  England  over  again,  and  in  its 
highest  form. 

The  Church  and  the  Academy  played  into  each  other ;  and 
together  they  held  the  people  to  what  was  best  in  each. 
It  was  undenominational,  and  the  Baptist  and  Episcopal 
churches  were  represented  on  the  board  of  trustees  and  in 
the  teaching  faculty.  It  thus  bred  a  catholic  spirit,  and, 
as  I  remember  the  town,  it  was  remarkably  free  from 
the  sectarian  temper,  notwithstanding  that  doctrinal  and 
ecclesiastical  distinctions  were  rigorously  held.  More  than 
all,  it  diffused  a  high  and  noble  spirit  throughout  the  com- 
munity. The  teachers  gave  the  tone  to  society.  In  a  very 
real  sense  and  degree  learning  was  honored,  and  was  counted 
as  essential  to  respectability.  Every  parent  and  every 
bright  boy  and  girl  felt  the  inspiration  of  the  Academy.  As 
I  recur  to  my  childhood  I  remember  two  chief  topics  of  con- 
versation in  the  household — the  Church  and  the  Academy ; 
and  I  cannot  recall  which  was  named  oftener.  Multitudes 
of  young  men  began  their  education  here  who  are  now  fill- 
ing high  positions  of  honor  and  usefulness  in  church  and 
state.     In  1859  its  students  had  numbered  more  than  8,000. 


EARLY  YEARS  27 

The  hope  of  the  nation  and  the  world,  and  the  hope  of 
every  man,  hes  in  education  and  reHgion.  Never  were  they 
more  truly  blended  than  in  tliis  Academy/^ 

Of  those  whose  lives  bear  witness  to  the  influence 
of  Cortland  Academy,  we  will  mention  two,  for  the 
reason  that  although  they  came  to  Homer  too  late  to 
he  actual  schoolmates  of  Munger  there,  each  followed 
him  to  Yale  and  was  closely  related  to  him  in  later 
years. 

From  the  neighboring  Pennsylvania  town  of  Mon- 
trose there  came  to  Cortland  Academy,  in  September 
1846,  Henry  Harris  Jessup,  then  but  fourteen  years 
of  age.  After  a  single  year  of  preparation  he  entered 
Yale  as  a  classmate  of  Munger  in  the  class  of  '51,  to 
become  one  of  its  most  beloved  and  honored  members. 
During  the  years  1852-1855  he  was  a  brilliant  stu- 
dent at  Union  Seminary,  N.  Y.,  whence  he  sailed 
after  graduation  to  become  one  of  the  heroes  of  mis- 
sionary service  in  Syria.  Here  he  remained  till  his 
death  in  1910. 

Along  the  same  path  but  shortly  after  came 
another  of  Munger's  lifelong  friends,  one  whom  Yale 
still  delights  to  honor,  joining  the  name  with  his  own, 
though  their  college  course  was  not  contemporary. 

13  "Homer  Church  Centennial  Manual,"  1901,  p.  17. 


28     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

The  friendship  dates  from  an  acquaintance  formed 
while  Hunger  was  spending  his  vacation  on  the  farm 
in  Homer.  Thither  from  the  same  little  town  of 
Montrose,  Pa.,  had  come,  after  Henry  Jessup,  and 
bent  on  the  same  errand  of  preparation  for  college, 
Elisha  Mulford  (Yale  B.A.  1855,  LL.D.  1872), 
author  of  "The  Nation,"  1871,  and  "The  Repubhc  of 
God,"  1881. 

The  school  days  in  Homer  should  interest  us  for 
that  wherein  they  were  tj^pical,  not  for  that  wherein 
thej^  were  exceptional.  Hudson,  Ohio,  where  they 
were  continued,  belonged  to  the  section  of  country 
known  as  the  Western  Reserve,  a  region  where  the 
old-time  New  England  ideas  and  institutions  obtained 
a  new  lease  of  life.  Homer,  as  we  have  seen,  had  the 
same  characteristics.  Those  who  know  the  educa- 
tional life  of  old  New  England  will  need  no  further 
data  to  reproduce  them  in  imagination.  Theodore 
Munger's  preparation  for  college — for  Principal 
Woolworth  had  pronounced  that  the  boy  must  have 
a  college  education  and  become  a  minister — was 
begun  in  the  Academy,  but  after  1846  was  continued 
in  the  preparatory  department  of  Western  Reserve 
College,  then  located  at  Hudson,  Ohio.  The  oppor- 
tunity for  entering  this  new  field  of  preparation  came 
through  the  marriage  of  his  sister  Cynthia,  in  1844!,  to 


EARLY  YEARS  29 

George  R.  Smith,  a  Homer  boy,  and  their  removal 
to  Hudson.  A  year  and  a  half  was  spent  under  the 
Smiths'  hospitable  roof,  where  Theodore  not  only 
availed  himself  of  the  advantages  of  the  college,  but 
remained  under  the  constant  influence  of  a  high- 
minded  and  Christian  household. 

A  testimony  to  the  lad's  taste  for  good  literature 
and  conscientious  employment  of  his  leisure  time 
remains  in  a  "List  of  books,"  with  careful  entries  in 
boyish  hand  of  titles  of  the  volumes  read  in  succes- 
sive years  from  January  1,  1844,  to  some  date  not 
specified  in  1848.  The  list  includes  sixty-eight 
volumes  in  1844,  forty-six  in  1845  and  a  somewhat 
smaller  number  in  the  succeeding  years,  but  compris- 
ing Scott,  Dumas,  Pope,  Milton,  Dryden,  Byron, 
Longfellow,  Irving,  Cooper,  Harriet  Martineau, 
Thiers,  as  well  as  lighter  works  of  travel,  history, 
poetry  and  fiction.  Manifestly  the  seventeen-year- 
old  boy  who  entered  Yale  in  1847,  had  more  than  an 
average  preparation.  But  college  life  demands  a 
chapter  to  itself. 


CHAPTER  II 

COLLEGE  DAYS 
1847-1851 

If  the  journey  from  Bainbridge  to  Homer  seemed 
to  mark  an  epoch  in  the  child  Theodore's  life,  and  the 
impression  of  the  village  "green,"  site  of  church  and 
schoolhouse,  remained  in  after  years  as  the  ideal  of 
architectural  grandeur,  we  can  imagine  what  the 
effect  must  have  been  on  the  young  lad's  mind  who, 
after  returning  to  Homer  from  his  eighteen  months' 
stay  in  Hudson,  set  out  almost  at  once  on  the  long 
journey  to  New  Haven.  The  memory  of  the  night 
ride  by  stagecoach,  seated  beside  the  driver,  from 
Homer  to  the  Hudson  River,  remained  long  and 
deeply  impressed.  The  journey  was  continued  by 
boat  down  the  Hudson  to  New  York  City — a  won- 
drous sight  to  the  country  lad — and  thence  again  by 
boat  to  New  Haven. 

Yale  College  in  1847  had  just  begun  a  new  period 
in  its  history.  Theodore  Dwight  Woolsey  had  suc- 
ceeded Jeremiah  Day  in  the  presidency  on  the  day 
after  the  latter's  resignation  was  presented,  in  Octo- 


COLLEGE  DAYS  31 

ber,  1846.  The  new  administration  covered  a  period 
of  twenty-five  years,  exceeding  all  the  previous  his- 
tory of  the  college  in  many  forms  of  progress.  In 
distinction  from  Harvard,  its  older  but  at  that  time 
more  provincial  sister,  Yale  had  already  acquired 
the  reputation  of  an  institution  of  national  scope  and 
influence.  Under  Woolsey  it  not  only  continued  to 
draw  students  from  a  much  wider  field  than  its  rival, 
but  greatly  increased  its  lead  over  Harvard  in  num- 
ber of  students  in  attendance.  The  South  in  particu- 
lar sent  the  largest  quota  of  her  sons  to  Yale.  This 
national  growth  of  influence  was  fully  justifled  by 
the  type  of  men  who  formed  the  college  faculty. 

The  year  which  saw  the  beginning  of  Hunger's  stu- 
dent life  was  marked  by  the  accession  to  the  teaching 
force  of  one  who  many  years  later  was  to  exert  an 
influence  of  decisive  importance  on  his  career.  Rev. 
Noah  Porter,  later  Woolsey's  successor  in  the  presi- 
dency, was  installed  in  1847  in  the  new  professorship 
of  Moral  Philosophy  and  Metaphysics.  In  the  fol- 
lowing year  Mr.  James  Hadley,  father  of  President 
Arthur  T.  Hadley,  was  promoted  to  the  charge  of 
the  Greek  department,  entering  thus  upon  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  careers  among  American  classi- 
cists. Thomas  A.  Thacher,  who  had  been  made 
Assistant  Professor  of  Latin  in  1842,  was  just  begin- 


32     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

ning  to  develop  in  1847  the  extraordinary  gifts  which 
made  him  during  a  period  of  forty-seven  years  one 
of  the  most  effective  and  beloved  of  the  great  teachers 
of  Yale.  In  1850  a  professorship  in  Geology  was 
established,  just  as  young  Hunger  was  ready  to 
receive  its  instruction  at  the  feet  of  James  D.  Dana — 
imposing  name!  And  yet  perhaps  for  "Thede" 
Hunger,  and  that  classmate  of  his  and  brother  of  the 
new-made  professor,  William  B.  Dana,  afterwards 
so  eminent  as  founder  and  editor  of  The  Commercial 
and  Financial  Review,  it  was  not  quite  so  impressive 
as  to  us. 

Among  the  older  professors,  those  who  next  to 
Woolsey  himself  gave  distinction  to  the  college  and 
perpetuated  high  traditions  of  science  and  scholarship 
were  Benjamin  Silliman,  who  had  been  appointed 
Professor  of  Chemistry  in  1802  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
three,  and  James  L.  Kingsley,  appointed  Professor 
of  Languages  in  1805  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven. 
Silliman  was  not  only  eminent  as  a  scientist  but  was 
also  public  orator  of  the  college,  continuing  in  active 
service  until  1853.  Kingsley  had  taught  onl}^  Latin 
since  the  appointment  of  Woolsey  in  1831  to  the  chair 
of  Greek;  but  he  remained  the  type  and  model  of 
high-minded  scholarship  until  his  retirement  in  1851, 
quickly  followed  by  his  death  in  1852. 


COLLEGE  DAYS  33 

This  array,  as  we  now  look  back  upon  it,  is  rightly 
esteemed  a  brilliant  one.  It  was  at  all  events  a  body 
of  men  who  could  point  to  the  real  achievement  of 
having  made  Yale  the  leading  institution  of  learning 
on  the  continent,  and  it  seems  at  first  almost  unac- 
countable that  Munger  could  write  to  his  classmates 
in  1893: 

We  are  all  too  grateful  for  what  the  dear  old  College  did 
for  us,  to  find  fault  with  what  she  did  not  do.  In  the  light 
of  the  present,  the  methods  of  that  day  seem  crude  and  poor 
■enough.  They  were  specially  unsuccessful  in  my  case,  but 
I  contrived  nevertheless  to  absorb  a  good  deal  of  general 
knowledge  from  the  college  as  a  whole,  and  made  up  for  what 
the  tutors  did  not  teach  me  by  rather  wide  reading  in  litera- 
ture, especially  in  Shakespeare,  which  I  knew  better  at 
graduation  than  I  do  now.^ 

The  inference  we  might  naturally  draw  from  this 
of  dissatisfaction  on  Plunger's  part  with  the  achieve- 
ments of  his  student  days  would  be  partly  justified; 
for  his  record  of  scholarship  was  not  high,  and  men 
are  wont  in  later  years  to  reproach  themselves  with 
the  "might  have  beens."  But  the  dissatisfaction  here 
expressed  is  clearly  directed  towards  the  institution 
and  its  then  rigid  curriculum,  largely  devoted  as  it 
was   to   classic   languages   and   mathematics,   while 

1  "Yale  Class  of  1851,"  p.  224. 


34     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

Hunger's  tastes  ran  unmistakably  to  English  litera- 
ture. It  voices  not  so  much  dissatisfaction  with  the 
past  as  the  satisfaction  of  Hunger's  later  years  in  the 
changes  so  greatly  needed,  some  of  which  he  himself 
had  a  part  in  bringing  to  pass. 

Hethods  were  indeed  improved  as  increasing  en- 
dowments at  last  enabled  the  institution  to  struggle 
free  from  the  depressing  handicap  of  constant  finan- 
cial straits.  Poverty  had  compelled  it  to  use  its  finest 
characters  and  intellects  in  mere  routine  work,  and 
in  the  business  of  administration  and  discipline.  Un- 
fortunately, narrowness  of  means  combined  with  nar- 
rowness of  vision  tended  to  prevent  the  development 
that  should  have  come  to  growing  and  impressionable 
minds  through  contact  Avith  minds  and  characters  of 
the  type  we  have  described.  Hany  felt  the  stimulus 
and  responded  to  it;  but  there  were  others  naturally 
gifted  and  ardent  as  Hunger  was,  but  introspective 
in  natural  disposition,  self-dependent  and  in  more  or 
less  conscious  rebellion  against  the  Procrustean  bed 
of  liberal  education  as  then  understood.  For  these 
the  main  purpose  of  collegiate  life  was  largely  unful- 
filled. Hunger  remained  at  Yale  for  the  whole  seven 
years  of  his  collegiate  training,  academic  and  profes- 
sional. His  environment  as  respects  social  position 
and  comfort  cannot  have  been  inferior  to  that  of  any 


COLLEGE  DAYS  35 

member  of  his  class,  and  must  have  been  far  superior 
to  most;  for  during  the  greater  part  of  this  seven 
years  he  was  an  inmate  of  one  of  the  homes  most  dis- 
tinguished for  wealth  and  refinement  in  the  city.  His 
mother's  brother,  David  Selden,  had  recently  re- 
turned from  England  the  possessor  of  an  ample  for- 
tune and  was  occupying  one  of  the  best  residences  in 
New  Haven,  directly  fronting  the  College  buildings 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Green.  Mrs.  David  Sel- 
den, aunt  of  Yale's  well-beloved  professor,  Eugene 
L.  Richards,  was  a  woman  of  exceptional  breadth 
and  depth  of  mind,  and  strong  religious  nature,  the 
mother  of  a  large  group  of  growing  children.  She 
was  a  woman  of  unusual  culture,  enlarged  by  long 
residence  in  England.  By  birth,  by  nurture,  and  by 
the  discipline  of  life,  she  was  also  a  woman  of  great 
dignity  and  beauty  of  character.  His  "Aunt  Ger- 
trude" not  only  received  her  nephew  as  a  member  of 
the  family,  but  took  a  deep  and  sympathetic  interest 
in  his  studies;  encouraging  an  intelligent  discussion 
of  questions  both  of  literary  and  public  interest.  She 
doubtless  contributed  greatly  also  to  his  savoir  faire 
in  the  ways  of  aristocratic  society,  of  which  Homer 
had  little  experience.  In  short,  nothing  can  have 
been  lacking  to  the  young  student  that  the  surround- 
ings of  a  home  of  culture  could  supply. 


36     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

But  the  very  wealth  of  home  advantages  often 
proves  an  obstacle  to  a  student's  appreciation  of  class- 
room drill.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  narrow 
curriculum  of  the  college  made  very  large  demands 
upon  the  submissive  docility  of  the  student.  There 
was  small  effort  to  call  out  his  responsive  interest  in 
the  subject,  little  concern  for  modern  science,  history, 
or  literature,  great  dependence  on  the  value  of  mental 
discipline  in  the  technical  routine  of  grammar,  lexicon, 
and  text-book.  Munger's  mind  was  preeminently 
disposed  to  literature.  Any  opportunity  to  come  into 
really  sympathetic  relations  with  the  instructors 
would  have  been  welcomed  by  him.  Indeed,  his 
younger  college-mate,  Andrew  D.  White,  recalls  as  a 
noteworthy  incident  of  his  own  college  course,  that: 

Almost  the  first  of  my  many  walks  with  him  took  us  to 
the  house  of  President  Woolsey,  to  whom  he  introduced  me. 
It  was  soon  clear  to  my  mind  that  there  was  something  more 
in  the  relation  between  the  President  and  my  friend  than  was 
then  usual  between  Yale  professors  and  students  generally: 
thanks  to  this  fact  I  had  quite  a  lengthy,  and,  to  me,  a 
very  interesting  talk  with  Dr.  Woolsey,  such  as  I  after- 
ward found  not  more  than  two  or  three  other  members  of 
my  class  ever  had.  It  was  clear  to  me  that  the  presence  of 
Hunger,  and  the  influence  of  his  quiet,  thoughtful  way  in 
suggesting  topics  of  conversation  was  the  cause  of  tliis. 


COLLEGE  DAYS  37 

Hunger's  literary  interest  and  familiarity  with  the 
best  writers  were  evidenced  by  his  securing  one  of  the 
coveted  Sophomore  composition  prizes.  His  gifts  in 
public  debate  brought  him  to  the  fore  in  the  contests 
between  the  two  college  debating  societies,  "Lino- 
nia"  and  "Brothers."  But  his  very  success  in  these 
directions  made  the  curriculum  drill  the  more  irk- 
some. Whatever  else  the  college  furnished — and  to 
many  it  was  giving  all  they  aspired  to  in  the  way  of 
mental  disciphne,  to  all  it  was  giving  the  best 
America  could  then  supply — it  failed  to  kindle  in 
Hunger's  mind  the  flame  of  enthusiasm.  It  did  not 
inspire  the  hope  of  service  to  the  world  in  the  advance- 
ment of  learning  or  culture.  The  j^ear  after  gradua- 
tion was  a  year  of  relief  from  wearisome  routine. 
When,  after  careful  consideration  of  the  relative 
attractions  of  rival  institutions,  he  returned  in  1852  to 
enter  the  Divinity  School,  the  course  in  theology  also 
"soon  ceased  to  have  much  meaning"  for  him,  though 
he  "responded  to  Dr.  Taylor's  spirit  of  independence 
and  courage  as  a  thinker  to  such  a  degree  as  to  count 
him  the  greatest"  of  his  teachers.  It  was  not  till  the 
fall  of  1855,  during  a  period  of  three  months  of 
graduate  study  at  Andover,  that  his  "whole  nature, 
intellectual  and  moral,  awoke,"  and  he  "took  an 
earnest  hold  on  life."    This,  however,  was  due  rather 


38     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

to  his  own  maturer  mental  development  and  the  prac- 
tical responsibilities  of  a  pastor  and  preacher  he  had 
begun  to  assume  than  to  differences  in  the  curricula 
or  faculties  of  the  two  institutions. 

The  spiritual  and  religious  influences  at  Yale  in 
1847-1851  were  less  active  than  at  several  periods  both 
before  and  after.  Still  they  were  by  no  means  defi- 
cient ;  neither  was  Hunger's  a  nature  to  be  unrespon- 
sive to  a  spiritual  atmosphere.  He  became  a  member 
of  the  college  church  during  his  Freshman  year,  along 
with  others  of  his  class,  by  public  profession  of  his 
faith.  But  this  step  was  not  taken  as  the  effect  of 
influences  experienced  in  New  Haven.  It  was  the 
natural  outgrowth  of  former  years.  Neither  the 
persuasive  eloquence  of  Dr.  Fitch  in  the  college  pul- 
pit nor  even  the  influence  of  Fitch's  classmate  and 
colleague,  Rev.  Chauncey  A.  Goodrich,  seems  to  have 
had  any  bearing  upon  it.  As  professor  of  Rhetoric 
and  English,  Goodrich  had  been  for  years  one  of  the 
strongest  factors  in  the  religious  life  of  the  college. 
He  continued  for  a  long  period  after  his  transfer  to 
the  Divinity  School,  in  1839,  to  be  the  religious  friend 
and  unofficial  pastor  of  many  of  the  undergraduate 
students.  But  Hunger's  own  later  testimony  is 
explicit  that  he  joined  the  college  church  "on  the 


COLLEGE  DAYS  39 

strength  of  a  Christian  education,  and  the  general 
fitness  of  the  aet."^ 

The  period  1847-1851  coincides  with  that  of  reac- 
tion from  the  great  revivals  of  1835-1837  and  1841. 
In  the  country  at  large,  interest  in  religion  experi- 
enced a  marked  decline  between  the  college  revival  in 
1841-1842,  led  by  Rev.  E.  N.  Kirk  of  Boston  and 
Prof.  N.  W.  Taylor  of  the  Divinity  School,  and  the 
great  national  revival  of  1857-1858.  College 
participation  in  the  antecedent  reaction  from  earlier 
revival  sentiment  had  fortunately  been  small. 
"Quiet,  deep,  permanent"  are  the  adjectives  which  a 
graduate  of  the  class  of  1856  employs  to  characterize 
its  religious  life  during  the  fifties.^  A  member  of 
the  class  of  1855  contributes  a  description  of  religious 
life  at  Yale  during  the  period  while  Munger  was  still 
a  student  in  the  Divinity  School.  From  it  we  take 
the  following  in  abstract: 

The  four  years  from  1851  to  1855  cover  my  college  life. 
Their  religious  character  is  still  vivid  in  my  memory ;  indeed, 
I  may  say  that  no  other  feature  of  that  life  stands  out  so 
vividly  or  so  impressively  as  the  religious.  .  .  .  There  was 
the  universally  beloved  President  Theodore  D.  Woolsey.  His 
prayers  at  morning  worship  in  the  Chapel  were  character- 

2  "Yale  Class  of  1851,"  1893,  p.  224, 

3  Wright,  "Two  Centuries  of  Christian  Activity  at  Yale,"  1901,  p.  91. 


40     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

ized  by  such  simplicity,  childlikeness,  soulfulness  and  direct- 
ness of  communion  with  God  as  to  make  them  models 
of  beauty  and  impressiveness.  His  preacliing  bore  the  same 
marks  as  his  prayers.  He  sought  to  make  Christian  char- 
acter central  and  all-controlling  among  scholarly  attain- 
ments, the  one  thing  to  be  supremely  desired,  and  what  made 
his  words  all  the  more  impressive  was  that  he  liimself  was  a 
bright  illustration  of  their  truth. 

It  was  customary  to  hold  a  general  midweek  religious 
meeting  in  the  lecture  room  of  the  Athenaeum.  This  was 
known  as  the  President's  meeting,  and  was  always  largely 
attended.  In  1852  Dr.  Fitch  retired  and  [in  1854.]  Rev. 
George  P.  Fisher  took  his  place.  The  students  greatly 
enjoyed  the  ministrations  of  Dr.  Fisher.  Quiet  in  manner, 
genial,  scholarly,  fresh  from  foreign  study,  his  thought  cast 
in  a  modern  mould,  he  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  religious 
life  of  the  college.  Not  that  there  was  any  break  with  the 
past ;  it  was  simply  a  step  higher,  where  there  was  a  broader 
outlook. 

The  power  of  the  college  pulpit  was  greatly  reinforced 
by  occasional  preachers,  such  men  from  New  Haven  as  the 
elder  Bacon,  Dutton,  Cleveland,  Strong  and  Phelps,  and 
from  abroad  J.  L.  Thompson  of  New  York,  Storrs  of 
Brooklyn,  Hawes  and  the  incomparable  Bushnell,  not  to 
speak  of  others,  men  so  alike  in  power,  yet  so  variant  in  its 
exhibition.* 

*  Letter  of  Frederick  Alvord  reproduced  by  Wright,  ibid. 


COLLEGE  DAYS  41 

Dr.  Alvord's  is  a  sincere  and  glowing  tribute;  yet 
equally  unimpeachable  testimony  makes  it  evident 
that  the  appeal  of  these  particular  forms  of  religious 
influence  was  limited,  like  that  of  the  stereotyped 
curriculum,  to  a  special  type  of  character.  Students 
who  fell  more  easily  into  the  conventional  mould 
could  profit  by  it.  It  was  meant  to  satisfy  their  spirit- 
ual needs  and  aspirations.  It  had  sufficed  for  their 
fathers — yes,  won  their  enthusiastic  praise.  How 
could  it  fail  to  attract  any  genuinely  spiritual  life? 
Yet  Munger  was  not  attracted.  A  clerical  classmate 
writes:  "He  was  never,  I  believe,  in  any  of  our  class 
or  college  religious  meetings,  certainly  not  in  the 
weekly  evening  class  meeting  of  Tuesday,  nor  in  the 
Friday  evening  meeting  addressed  by  President 
Woolsey,  and  I  do  not  recall  his  being  with  us  in  the 
college  service  of  Sunday." 

Religion  for  these  two  classmates  meant  an  almost 
completely  different  thing.  To  the  one  it  meant  the 
experiences  of  the  emotional  past  reproduced  in  the 
present.  To  the  other  it  refused  to  be  thus  limited. 
It  was  one  of  the  inborn  traits  of  this  spiritual-minded 
youth  to  seek  fellowship  with  God.  He  recalled  it  as 
a  bent  of  his  youth  "to  attend  prayer-meetings  when- 
ever possible — without  religious  thought  or  feeling, 
but  only  a  strong  instinct  or  native  love  of  religion." 


42     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

It  seems  strange  that  he  should  not  be  one  of  those 
who  made  up  the  "large"  and  "crowded"  attendance 
on  the  Sunday  evening  meetings  conducted  by  Pro- 
fessor Goodrich  and  the  "President's"  midweek  meet- 
ings in  the  Athenaeum.  Yet  somehow  there  was  a  lack 
of  sympathy.  It  was  not  that  Munger's  religion  was 
less  earnest  than  his  classmates',  still  less  that  he  lost 
from  view  for  one  moment  the  "high  calling"  to  the 
Christian  ministry  which  had  brought  him  to  Yale. 
Neither  were  his  college  da5^s  a  time  of  storm  and 
stress  in  the  struggle  against  doubt  or  temptation. 
Simply  the  modes  of  religious  expression  which  to 
many  were  adequate,  as  they  had  been  to  generations 
past,  to  him  were  no  longer  adequate.  He  held  aloof 
as  sons  of  the  bridechamber  hold  aloof  from  fasting. 
It  is  good  for  those  whose  mood  it  expresses,  but  new 
wine  must  have  new  bottles.  Conversion  was  the 
ever-recurrent  theme  in  the  religious  meetings  of 
Munger's  college  days,  modeled  as  they  still  were  on 
those  of  the  great  revivals,  though  pruned  of  excesses. 
The  type  had  become  conventionalized,  like  the  cur- 
riculum; and  for  a  spirit  craving  reality,  already 
taking  its  first  steps  toward  the  larger  world  of 
thought  and  life,  this  atmosphere  was  uncongenial. 
It  was  far  from  being  a  sterile  period  in  either  the 


COLLEGE  DAYS  43 

intellectual  or  religious  development  of  the  youth, 
but  his  growth  was  not  along  the  lines  mapped  out. 

At  this  period  in  the  history  of  the  college  the  whole 
body  of  undergraduates  was  divided  between  two 
debating  societies,  "Linonia"  and  "Brothers." 
Early  in  his  college  life  Munger  became  a  member  of 
the  former.  There  remain  ten  "disputes,"  carefully 
written  out,  prepared  for  the  first  and  second  terms 
of  his  Junior  year,  as  witness  to  the  prominence  of 
public  debate  in  student  interest,  an  interest  which 
the  present  generation  finds  it  hard  to  reawaken. 
The  subjects  are  partly  literary  and  academic,  partly 
political,  dealing  with  the  practical  issues  of  the  time. 
On  "Slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia"  and  "The 
Fugitive  Slave  Bill"  the  young  abolitionist  from 
Western  Reserve  must  have  spoken  con  amove;  for 
he,  his  classmate  Joseph  Sheldon,  and  Andrew 
D.  White  of  '53  were  marked  representatives  of 
antislavery  views.  Still,  in  the  document  before 
us,  the  attitude  taken  by  Munger  on  the  Fugitive 
Slave  Bill,  whether  because  of  assignment  to  this  side 
in  the  debate,  or  from  personal  choice,  is  of  unexcep- 
tionable moderation.^     He  declines  to  re-debate  the 

5  The  year  of  the  "dispute"  is  that  of  the  famous  speech  of  Daniel 
Webster  which  alienated  from  him  all  but  the  proslavery  element  of  his 
state.  The  date  of  the  speech  was  March  7.  In  aU  probability  the 
students'  debate  was  later.     Munger  was  a  great  admirer  of  Webster. 


44     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

question  of  the  expediency  of  passing  the  bill  (dis- 
cussed on  an  earlier  occasion  when  Munger  had  not 
spoken),  though  he  makes  no  concealment  of  his 
hatred  and  contempt  for  the  motives  which  prompted 
it.  Reenactment  of  the  law  of  1793  for  the  protection 
of  the  owners  of  slave  property  the  young  orator 
declares  to  be  a  mere  pretext.  The  real  object  of  the 
bill  is  "so  base  as  to  stamp  it  with  shame."  If  only  a 
reenactment,  the  bill  was  unnecessary.  If  more  than 
this,  it  was  an  aggressive  move  for  the  extension  of 
slavery.  Since,  however,  it  has  been  enacted,  he 
"would  say  most  emphatically.  Enforce  it." 

In  the  debate  on  "The  Congress  of  Nations,"  i.e., 
the  proposed  international  conference  for  the  settle- 
ment of  disputes  between  nations  without  recourse 
to  war,  we  are  fain  to  believe  that  the  arguments  of 
the  disputant,  aiming  to  show  that  the  purposes  of 
such  a  congress  would  be  "neither  desirable  nor  prac- 
ticable," did  not  represent  the  real  convictions  of  the 
speaker.  War,  it  is  urged,  is  a  great  evil ;  but  it  can- 
not be  abolished  without  entailing  greater.  First, 
because  "it  seems  to  be  ordained  for  special  purposes 
by  a  higher  Power."  We  might  be  left  in  doubt 
whether  this  "higher  Power"  were  God  or  Satan,  but 
the  succeeding  clause  removes  all  possible  ambiguity. 
It   would   be   impious — so   our   youthful   disputant 


COLLEGE  DAYS  45 

maintains — to  attempt  to  abolish  "one  of  the  great 
instrumentalities  in  the  hand  of  God."  To  be  spe- 
cific, the  orator  will  "regard  this  as  an  undeniable  and 
established  fact,  that  war  has  ever  been  the  great 
agent  and  promoter  of  civilization."  Instance: 
Where  the  missionary  has  gone  with  the  Bible,  the 
soldier  prepared  the  way  before  him  with  the 
sword  ( !) — but  "the  good  results  of  war  are  too  evi- 
dent to  be  dwelt  upon."  War  is  almost  absolutely 
necessary  "to  carry  off  the  surplus  population  of  the 
globe." 

The  amusement  with  which  we  now  read  the  argu- 
ments for  war  which  a  bare  half-century  ago  were 
soberly  advanced  before  audiences  by  no  means  the 
least  intelligent,  is  no  small  encouragement  for  the 
advocate  of  international  peace.  Those  who  were 
privileged  to  know  the  Munger  of  later  years  will 
realize  that  it  was  not  the  disposition  of  the  man,  but 
the  prepossessions  of  the  times  which  gave  such 
reasoning  a  temporary  plausibility  in  his  eyes. 

The  one  serious  publication  of  undergraduate  Yale 
was  then,  as  now.  The  Yale  Literary  Magazine. 
The  sixth  issue  of  Vol.  XVI,  which  appeared  in 
April,  1851,  contains  a  review  by  Munger  of  the 
writings  of  De  Quincey.  These  had  been  published 
in  four  volimies   by   Ticknor,   Reed   &   Fields,   in 


46  THEODORE  THORNTON  IMUNGER 

1850.  So  far  as  now  appears,  this  essay  marked  the 
beginning  of  the  young  author's  literary  career,  and 
its  characteristics  are  such  as  might  have  been  antici- 
pated. There  is  confirmation  in  the  very  choice  of 
subject  of  the  statement,  in  the  Class  History,  "I 
made  up  for  what  the  tutors  did  not  teach  me  by 
rather  wide  reading  in  literature."  As  a  literary 
critic,  the  boy  who  had  just  attained  the  milestone 
of  manhood  displays  already  a  full  maturitj^  of  appre- 
ciation, and  is  able  to  express  his  judgment  with 
vigor  of  style  and  nicety  of  expression.  De  Quincey 
is  compared  to  Poe  for  his  power  of  analysis : 

They  both  exhibit  the  same  delicate  perception  of  analo- 
gies, the  same  clear  insight  into  character  and  the  same 
power  of  weighing  probabilities.  This  gift,  united  with  his 
learning,  especially  qualified  him  to  examine  doubtful  pas- 
sages in  History  and  Literature,  the  right  understanding  of 
which  depends  more  upon  a  nice  appreciation  of  the  cir- 
cumstances and  characters  concerned  than  on  the  quantity 
of  facts. 

The  criticism  of  De  Quincey 's  style  shows  equally 
mature  discrimination  and  is  itself  expressed  with  no 
small  degree  of  skill  and  power: 

The  great  characteristic  of  his  style  is  power.  Under- 
standing thoroughly  his  subject,  conscious  that  he  is  right, 


COLLEGE  DAYS  47 

feeling  its  merits  with  all  the  earnestness  of  his  great  nature, 
and  gifted  with  an  almost  perfect  command  of  language, 
he  carries  all  before  him,  leaving  not  a  standing  thing  within 
the  sweep  of  his  mighty  pen.  The  moment  he  touches  his 
theme  you  are  conscious  of  being  under  the  influence  of  a 
master  power,  and  are  contented  to  follow  in  his  mighty 
wake,  without  attempting  to  struggle  against  its  surges. 
In  argument  he  not  only  casts  his  opponent  to  the  earth, 
but  buries  him  beneath  his  potent  rhetoric,  so  that  there 
shall  be  no  hope  of  his  resurrection.  It  cannot  be  said  that 
his  style  is  natural  or  flowing.  It  is  artificial — extremely  so, 
but  it  is  architecture  of  a  stupendous  order.  It  possesses 
little  symmetrical  elegance,  but  rises  in  proportions  so  grand 
and  magnificent  that  you  are  awed  into  wonder,  rather  than 
persuaded  into  admiration,  and  although  you  may  observe 
graceful  arches  and  symmetrical  turrets,  still  you  feel  only 
the  presence  of  the  stupendous  towers  that  overshadow  you. 

A  classmate,  Rev.  A.  H.  Carrier,  writing  in  May, 
1911,  of  Munger's  distaste  for  the  classroom  drill, 
"mainly  in  the  hands  of  young  tutors,"  explains  it  as 
only  the  obverse  of  his  attraction  for  "literature  of 
the  best  kind  that  he  could  find  on  the  library 
shelves."  This  testimony  is  borne  out  by  the  docu- 
ments. Doubtless  the  classroom  drill  was  also 
intended  to  lead  to  a  taste  for  the  humanities  con- 
joined with  philological  method  and  logical  power. 


48     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

But  the  besetting  sin  of  pedagogy  in  its  ceaseless  war 
with  superficiality  is  exhaustion  of  the  motive  power. 
The  inspiring  vision  of  the  goal  may  be  lost  in  routine. 
When  such  danger  threatens,  shortcuts  are  better 
than  the  beaten  track.  In  Hunger's  case,  at  least, 
mental  vitality  was  saved  by  the  appeal  to  life. 
From  the  mere  letter  he  turned  to  books  as  exponents 
of  life,  and  came  into  contact  with  the  spirit  of  the 
great  English  men  of  letters,  if  not  with  those  of 
classic  times. 

There  was  a  further  appeal  to  life  in  the  use 
made  by  the  warm-hearted  boy  of  those  "uncove- 
nanted  mercies"  of  the  college  course,  its  fellowships 
and  friendships,  the  touch  of  ardent  soul  with  soul, 
the  loyalties,  the  hero-worships  of  friendly  rivals  who 
have  taken  one  another's  measure  and  made  a  "cove- 
nant of  blood"  like  that  of  David  and  Jonathan. 

In  place  of  the  modern  photograph  album  with  its 
mechanical  reproduction  of  mere  face  and  feature, 
the  older  classes  at  Yale  exchanged  autograph 
albums  in  which  it  was  the  custom  for  each  member 
of  the  class  to  write  for  every  other,  sometimes  mak- 
ing a  poetical  selection,  sometimes  characterizing  a 
friend  or  depicting  the  pleasures  of  the  relationship 
in  a  way  to  exhibit,  as  nothing  else  could  do,  the  esti- 
mate formed  by  the  class  itself  of  its  various  mem- 


COLLEGE  DAYS  49 

bers.  Many  of  the  notes  written  by  Hunger's  class- 
mates in  his  album  give  evidence  of  the  exceptional 
talent  which  his  fellow- students  believed  they  dis- 
cerned in  him.  One  classmate  finds  occasion  for 
exhortation  to  greater  industry: 

"If  you  only  had  a  little  more  heroic  industry  I  know  few 
men  that  I  would  match  with  you.  A  little  patient  industry 
coupled  with  a  little  heroism  would  carry  you  to  the  immor- 
tal gods.  Aim  high  and  there  is  no  danger  but  you  will 
hit  the  mark." 

More  often  the  expressions  simply  combine  affec- 
tion and  esteem,®  though  in  quite  a  number  of  cases 
the  writers  express  regret  at  having  failed  to  attain 
an  intimate  relationship.  Some  of  the  warmest 
expressions  of  regard  are  from  members  of  the  Greek 
letter  fraternity  *  Y  into  which  Munger  was  initi- 
ated in  his  Junior  year.  We  may  take  the  following 
as  the  pen-portrait  of  a  friend  and  admirer.  It  is 
from  the  valedictorian  and  DeForest  prize  speaker 
of  the  class  below  Munger's;  one  whose  brilliant 
war  record  and  subsequent  career  as  lawyer,  educator, 

6  Because  of  the  eminence  of  the  writer  (General  John  Willcocks 
Noble,  Secretary  of  the  Interior  under  President  Harrison  and  founder 
of  the  modern  policy  of  forest  conservation)  we  may  mention  his  appre- 
ciation of  his  classmate's  "indulgent  disposition,  sound  understanding, 
and  good  taste." 


50     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

and  author  amply  fulfilled  the  promise  of  his  college 
days: 

Feiend  Mungee: 

I  know  of  no  individual  in  College  that  has  more  friends 
and  fewer  enemies  than  you.  It  is  hard  for  merit  and  talent 
to  be  conspicuous  without  exciting  malignant  hatred  and 
torturing  slander,  and  I  am  glad  that  your  reputation, 
though  honorable  and  brilliant,  is  yet  almost  unscathed  by 
malice.  Your  modest,  unobtrusive  deportment — the  spon- 
taneous expression  of  a  warm  heart  and  a  discerning  intel- 
lect— has  gained  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  others,  and 
has  made  me  ever 

Your  sincere  friend. 

Class  of  '52.  HoMEE  B.  Speague. 

To  this  we  may  subjoin  expressions  of  friendship 
from  three  classmates  who  were  soon  brought  into 
new  connection  with  Munger  and  remained  through- 
out long  hves  of  useful  service  in  close  bonds  of 
mutually  helpful  sympathy.  Jenkins,  Jessup,  and 
Vose  continued  their  preparation  for  the  ministrj^ 
coincidently  with  him.  Vose  alone  continued  without 
intermission;  but  all  three  of  the  others  entered  the 
Divinity  School  in  1852  and  graduated  in  1855. 
Jenkins  and  Munger  completed  their  theological 
course  together  at  Yale,  Jessup  at  Union  Seminary, 


COLLEGE  DAYS  51 

New  York,  and  Vose  at  Andover.  It  is  worth  while 
to  hear  the  God-speed  of  these  young  comrades  in 
arms  as  they  bid  each  other  farewell  at  the  close  of 
college  days. 

Jenkins  queries  whether  to  begin  "Dear  Thede" 
or  "My  very  dear  friend  Munger,"  but  as  he  warms 
to  the  recollection  of  "that  glorious  set  of  fellows" 
whom  he  had  come  to  know  in  *  Y,  including  ' ' Jes- 
sup"  and  "Vose,"  the  warmer,  more  intimate  tone 
prevails : 

We  shall  soon,  my  dear  fellow,  be  thrown  into  the  world. 
Let  us  act  nobly,  let  us  live  wisely,  that  we  may  die  peace- 
fully. I  shall  ever  remember  you  with  no  common  feelings, 
for  you  have  ever  been  to  me  a  good  friend  and  true.  May 
you  use  those  talents  God  has  given  you  for  some  good  pur- 
pose here,  and  reap  a  rich  reward  both  here  and  hereafter. 

"Jack,"  as  he  signs  himself,  was  Jonathan  Leavitt 
Jenkins,  D.D.,  a  lifelong  friend,  pastor  for  seven 
years  (1855-1862)  of  the  First  Church  in  Lowell, 
Mass.,  then,  for  two  years,  of  the  Pearl  Street  Church 
of  Hartford,  Conn.;  later,  for  ten  years,  pastor  of 
the  First  Church  of  Amherst,  Mass.,  for  fifteen  of 
that  of  Pittsfield,  Mass.,  and  finally  of  the  State 
Street  Church  of  Portland,  Me.,  his  birthplace,  the 
church  of  which  his  father  had  been  pastor.     The 


62     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

career  of  James  Gardiner  Vose,  D.D.,  was  also  to  be 
that  of  a  New  England  pastor,  so  that  the  friendship 
which  had  been  less  intimate  in  college  days  had 
time  and  opportunity  to  ripen.  He  was  but  two 
days  Hunger's  senior,  and  after  some  years  of  travel 
and  study  in  Europe  and  nine  years  of  service  as 
professor  of  English  at  Amherst,  became  pastor  in 
1866  for  the  remainder  of  his  long  and  useful  career 
of  the  Beneficent  Congregational  Church  in  Provi- 
dence, R.  I.  His  letter  is  full  of  simple  and  trans- 
parent dignity: 

Dear  Mungek: 

Our  intercourse  in  Psi  Upsilon  is  enough  to  guarantee 
our  friendship,  although  elsewhere  we  have  met  but  little. 
Your  name,  however,  has  often  been  in  the  mouths  of  your 
feUows  as  one  of  the  pleasantest  and  best  writers  in  our 
class.  If  I  wish  that  your  success  may  equal  your  abilities 
it  is  a  good  wish.  I  hope,  however,  that  you  desire  more  a 
useful  than  a  brilliant  career.     May  such  be  your  portion! 

Truly  yours, 

James  Gaediner  Vose. 

The  man  who  can  take  with  him  from  college  into 
after  life  three  real  friends  has  not  spent  his  time  in 
vain.     Hunger  had  more.     Sprague  was  perhaps 


COLLEGE  DAYS  53 

right  in  saying  no  man  in  college  had  more  friends 
and  fewer  enemies.  Yet  of  all  these  there  surely 
was  no  purer,  no  more  knightly  soul  than  Jessup,  the 
Galahad  of  their  round  table.  It  always  seemed  as 
easy  for  Jessup  to  decline  some  of  the  highest  offices 
in  the  gift  of  church  or  state  as  in  boyhood  to  dedi- 
cate himself  to  the  ministry,  and  at  twenty  to  give 
himself  to  the  service  of  foreign  missions.  So  it  was 
when  home  on  furlough  in  1857  he  refused  succes- 
sively the  professorship  of  Old  Testament  Literature 
in  Union  Theological  Seminary  and  the  pastorate  of 
one  of  the  leading  churches  near  New  York,  and  when 
in  1883  he  declined  the  appointment  of  President 
Arthur  to  the  post  of  United  States  ambassador  to 
Persia.  Always  the  sole,  and  to  him  perfectly  ade- 
quate, reason  was  that  he  was  more  needed  in  the 
mission  field.  Of  himself  he  once  wrote:  "Offers  of 
positions  other  than  that  of  a  missionary  made,  liter- 
ally, no  impression  on  my  mind."  The  common  pre- 
conception of  such  a  character  is  that  it  must  needs 
be  ascetic  if  not  austere;  its  saintliness  seems  ever  to 
suggest  something  of  the  feminine.  But  Jessup  fur- 
nished the  springs  of  jollity  when  "good  fellows  got 
together"  in  the  class  of  '51.  It  is  to  him  that  the 
"pranks"  are  attributed  that  are  covertly  alluded  to; 
and  if  the  venerable  and  majestic  figure  the  present 


54     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

writer  so  well  remembers  but  a  few  years  ago  in 
Syria  be  any  witness,  the  boy,  graduating  from  Yale 
when  barely  nineteen,  must  have  had  the  frame  of  an 
athlete  and  the  bearing  of  a  soldier.  It  is  from  his 
letter  (the  only  illustrated  one,  though  we  must 
omit — alas — the  illustration  and  the  jocose  allusions) 
that  our  closing  extract  from  the  album  is  taken. 

My  acquaintance  with  you  has  proved  one  thing  to  my 
entire  satisfaction :  that  a  college  friendship  is  lasting.  We 
have  been  friends  for  four  long  years,  and  I  have  loved  you 
better  every  day.  We  have  some  glorious  fellows  in  that 
class  of  ours,  but  none  remains  whom  I  esteem  more  than  my 
Homer  friend  and  classmate.  It  is  useless  for  me  to  try 
to  recur  to  our  many  pleasant  hours ;  my  hours  spent  in 
your  society  have  all  been  pleasant,  and  will  ever  live,  set 
like  jewels  in  the  casket  of  my  memory.  I  hope  and  expect 
that  God  will  succeed  you  in  all  your  efforts  to  do  good  in 
the  world.  It  is  my  prayer  that  he  may.  Farewell! 
Yours  in  the  bonds  of   ^  Y, 

Henry  Harris  Jessup. 

Our  review  of  College  Days  would  not  be  complete 
without  the  testimony  of  a  still  surviving  friend, 
whose  recollections  of  still  earlier  days  have  already 
been  quoted,  but  who  writes  expressly  of  coming  to 
Yale  after  a  first  year  at  Hobart  College,  specifically 


COLLEGE  DAYS  55 

because  of  Munger,  and  under  his  influence.  Presi- 
dent Andrew  D.  AVliite  tells  of  his  j^ear  of  college 
life  in  association  with  Munger,  then  a  Senior,  in  a 
letter  from  which  we  take  the  following  extracts : 

As  I  met  my  Senior  friend  from  time  to  time,  I  was  espe- 
cially impressed  by  some  of  his  qualities.  His  talk  on  topics 
of  general  interest  was  the  more  remarkable  in  that,  though 
he  intended  to  become  a  minister,  he  said  very  httle  about 
religion.  Another  thing  which  surprised  me  was  that  he  had 
apparently  very  few,  if  any,  of  the  ordinary  college  ambi- 
tions. He  associated  on  even  terms  Avith  the  very  best  men 
in  his  class,  such  as  Henry  Jessup,  Evan  Evans  and  the  like, 
and  was  evidently  respected  by  them,  but  he  did  not,  I 
think,  compete  often  for  academic  honors  either  in  writing, 
speaking  or  general  scholarship. 

We  were  brought  together  pleasantly  in  one  of  the  Greek 
Letter  fraternities  of  the  Junior  year  but,  to  my  great  sur- 
prise, he  was  not,  so  far  as  I  ever  knew,  a  member  of  any 
one  of  the  Senior  societies.  This  was  to  be  wondered  at,  for, 
though  he  was  very  quiet,  he  was  eminently  a  "clubable 
man,"  an  excellent  writer,  a  suggestive  talker  and  altogether 
would  be  called  a  "good  fellow."  I  have  often  speculated 
upon  the  reasons  why  he  was  not  a  leader  in  his  class  in 
the  same  sense  as  were  his  two  friends  above  mentioned  and 
a  half  dozen  others  like  them.  One  reason  perhaps  was  that 
he  never  lived  in  the  College  buildings,  but  had  rooms  at  a 


56  THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

considerable  distance  from  them :  and  another  was,  perhaps, 
that  he  was  especially  absorbed  in  the  literature  which  was 
then  appearing.  That  was  the  time  when  the  writings  of 
Tennyson,  the  Brownings,  Dickens  and  Thackeray  were 
appearing  in  England,  and  those  of  Emerson,  Lowell,  Bush- 
nell,  Parker,  Holmes  and  others  of  eminence,  in  America. 
These  naturally  attracted  him  away  from  the  classroom 
routine  of  the  earlier  years. 

After  his  graduation  he  spoke  to  me  not  infrequently  of 
the  Yale  Divinity  School  and  of  the  men  he  was  hearing 
there.  The  main  object  of  his  admiration  seemed  to  be  Dr. 
Nathaniel  Taylor,  and  he  took  me  to  one  of  the  Doctor's 
lectures,  which  dwells  in  my  memory  as  one  of  the  most 
thoughtful  and  at  the  same  time  racy  and  humorous  ofFhand 
discourses  I  have  ever  heard. 

As  to  our  points  of  view,  I  was  at  first  separated  from 
him  by  a  two-fold  barrier,  one  element  in  it  being  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  church  in  which  I  was  bom  and  the  other  being 
the  influence  upon  me  of  Carlyle,  Emerson,  Channing  and 
Theodore  Parker — ^but  we  never  combated  each  other  in 
these  fields — he  drew  me  rather  into  new  fields  and  especially 
into  that  in  which  Bushnell  was  supreme.  On  the  whole,  he 
influenced  me  much  by  what  he  wrote  and  said,  but  most 
by  what  he  was. 

We  were  drawn  together  not  only  by  our  admiration  of 
Professor — afterward  President — Porter  in  his  classroom, 
but  also  by  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon  in  liis  pulpit  at  the  Centre 


COLLEGE  DAYS  57 

Church  and  by  Horace  Bushnell  during  his  occasional 
appearances  in  the  College  Chapel,  Dr.  Porter,  though 
not  especially  gifted  as  a  speaker,  took  possession  of  our 
hearts.  Dr.  Bacon,  by  his  discourses,  impressed  us  both 
as  a  great  prophet  of  righteousness.  We,  like  all  antislavery 
men  of  those  days,  liked  best  his  sermons  on  special  occasions, 
but  there  was  a  cynical  epigram  current  at  that  time,  "Dull 
as  Dr.  Bacon  when  he's  nothing  but  the  Gospel  to  preach," 
which  both  Hunger  and  myself  resented,  being  sure  that, 
Like  fully  one-half  of  all  epigrams,  it  was  untrue.  Though 
I  was  obliged  to  attend  the  Episcopal  church,  I  heard  Dr. 
Bacon's  ordinary  sermons  when  I  could,  and  never  one  of 
them  which  did  not  strongly  impress  me:  and  this,  although 
Hunger's  style  caught  nothing  from  Dr.  Bacon's  except  its 
seriousness,  was  evidently  my  friend's  experience  also.  As 
to  Bushnell,  he  took  hold  of  us  both  by  his  original  thought 
and  penetrating  style.  A  sermon  on  Music  preached  by  him 
at  the  opening  of  a  new  organ  in  the  Chapel  carried  us  both 
oflp  our  feet — as  indeed  it  did  great  numbers  of  our  fellows. 
Last  year,  more  than  sixty  years  afterward,  one  of  these — 
Sprague — of  the  Class  of  1852,  repeated  whole  pages  of  it 
to  me  from  memory. 

I  ought  also  to  say  that  both  of  us  were  really  impressed 
by  the  character  and  sermons  of  President  Woolsey.  One 
of  these  discourses  took  stronger  hold  upon  me  than  any 
other  I  ever  heard  in  the  College  Chapel.  Its  subject  was 
"Righteous  Anger,"  and  it  dragged  me  out  of  the  "mush 


58     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

and  slush"  which  passed  in  those  days — and  passes  indeed 
in  these  also — as  "philanthropj-,"  and  "charity-"  Coupled 
with  Carlyle's  "Model  Prisons,"  it  cleared  my  mind  of  masses 
of  cant;  it  led  me  to  realize  that  crime  is  not  merely  mis- 
fortune and  to  see  clearly  that  this  sham  "mercy"  has  been 
a  main  cause  of  the  fact  that  our  country  suffers  more  from 
crimes  of  violence,  and  especially  from  the  crime  of  murder, 
than  does  any  other  civilized  nation  in  the  world.  Munger 
was  evidently  influenced  by  the  same  feeling,  and  many  years 
after  our  graduation  invited  me  to  give,  in  his  pulpit  at 
the  North  Church  in  New  Haven,  a  discourse  on  "The  Prob- 
lem of  High  Crime,"  which  I  had  delivered  before  all  sorts 
of  audiences  from  Boston  to  San  Francisco.  He  was  giving 
or  causing  to  be  given,  at  that  time,  a  course  of  "Sunday 
Evening  Sermons  to  Men,"  and  he  wished  my  speech  as  one 
of  these.  The  request  rather  startled  me,  for  my  utterances 
were  hardly  in  the  odor  of  sanctity  just  then  among  the 
majority  of  orthodox  churchmen.  But  he  pressed  me  and 
finally  I  yielded,  it  being  agreed  that  he  should  conduct  the 
religious  part  of  the  service.  This  he  did,  and  read  the 
chapter  in  Genesis  recording  the  murder  of  Abel.  From 
this  I  took  my  text:  "Thy  brother's  blood  calleth  unto  me 
from  the  ground,"  and  I  also  took,  as  an  additional  text,  the 
first  of  the  three  rights  stated  as  fundamental  in  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence — "The  right  to  life."  I  showed  that 
in  no  country  besides  our  own  does  our  brother's  blood 
call  more  loudly  and  tliat  in  none  is  the  first  of  these  great 


COLLEGE  DAYS  59 

fundamental  rights  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  more 
disregarded.  Immediately  on  my  closing,  Dr.  Munger  gave 
out  a  final  hymn  in  these  words :  "I  can  think  of  but  one  way 
of  fitly  closing  this  sendee ;  let  us  sing  Charles  Wesley's 
hymn,  *A  charge  to  keep  I  have.'  " 


CHAPTER  III 

TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  FOR  THE 
MINISTRY 

1852-1855 

The  class  of  '51  at  Yale  furnished  the  usual  quota — 
then  much  larger  than  in  recent  years — of  candidates 
for  the  ministry,  including — also  a  more  common 
phenomenon  at  that  time — its  foremost  scholar'  as 
well  as  a  generous  proportion  of  its  leading  men.  A 
group  of  these  classmates  returned  at  the  opening 
of  the  next  term  after  graduation,  to  continue  in 
Yale  Divinity  School  their  special  training  for  the 
ministry.  Among  these,  however,  there  were  none 
of  JNIunger's  intimates.  A  larger  number  found  it 
advisable  or  necessary,  usually  for  financial  reasons, 
to  allow  one  or  more  years  to  intervene  before  con- 
tinuing their  course  of  study.  Plunger  and  Jessup 
were  of  those  who  remained  at  home  a  year.  In  the 
class  of  '55  of  Yale  Divinity  School,  Hunger  found 
himself  again  associated  with  several  classmates  and 

1  Rev.  Thos.  S.  Potwin,  subsequently  an  eminent  teacher  of  classical 
and  of  biblical  Greek. 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  61 

former  Yale  men.  E.  P.  Smith,  Charles  J.  Hutchin- 
son of  the  academic  class  of  '49,  Willis  and  Henry 
Colton  (Yale  '48)  helped  to  form  a  congenial  group, 
and  there  were,  besides,  three  of  Munger's  own  class. 
J.  Y.  Leonard  and  Henry  Loomis  were  not  among 
his  intimate  friends,  but  "Jack"  Jenkins,  who  had 
received  with  delight  at  Leicester  Academy,  Mass., 
in  June,  1852,  "Thede's"  announcement  of  his 
intended  return  to  Yale,  made  arrangements  at  once 
to  secure  adjoining  rooms  in  the  old  Divinity  Build- 
ing (since  demolished),  where  the  two  began  and 
completed  together  their  course  of  theological  study. 
They  had  as  neighbor  in  the  same  corridor  the  newly 
appointed  college  pastor,  George  P.  Fisher,  just 
returned  from  Germany  and  saturated  with  its  theo- 
logical debate.  Besides  this  group  there  was  a 
former  classmate  and  friend  of  Munger's  who  since 
graduation  had  remained  in  New  Haven,  a  student 
in  the  Law  School.  This  was  E.  N.  Taft,  whose 
friendship  remained  till  the  end  a  valued  treasure  of 
Munger's  life.  From  a  letter  to  Noble,  written  from 
Homer  the  October  after  graduation,  we  learn  that 
the  interruption  of  Munger's  studies  by  a  year  at 
home  was  not  due  to  financial  stringencies,  nor  even 
to  advice  of  friends.  It  was  due  to  the  young  grad- 
uate's complete  (though  temporary)  disenchantment 


62     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

with  college  life,  and  revolt  against  being  "tied  to  the 
college  bell-rope."  Nevertheless  the  year  of  freedom 
was  "not  a  year  of  leisure,  but  of  verj^  serious  reflec- 
tion on  many  things,  especially  on  one  or  two  points 
in  theologj%  where  the  framework  of  Calvinism  loos- 
ened and  at  last  gave  way."^  It  was  a  year  of 
"doing  just  as  I  please,  working  some,  studying 
some  and  reading  considerable";  but  it  included  also 
"Sunday  evenings  in  summer,  when  I  climbed  alone 
upon  the  high  hill  and  lay  down  with  my  head  pil- 
lowed on  mj^  dog,  while  the  stars  and  the  stillness  and 
darkness,  and  an  intense  sense  of  personality  came 
out — meeting,  or  creating,  as  it  were,  a  sense  of  the 
infinite  Reality  from  which  I  have  never  escaped."' 
College  experiences,  as  we  have  seen,  had  tended  in 
Hunger's  case  almost  to  repel  him  from  certain  con- 
ventional forms  of  religious  as  well  as  of  intellectual 
development.  Had  there  been  any  wavering  of  his 
fundamental  devotion  to  the  service  of  the  Christian 
ministry  this  was  the  time  for  it  to  show  itself,  a 
period  when  every  college  graduate  is  compelled  to 
confront  the  question  how  he  shall  invest  the  accumu- 
lated resources  of  natural  capacity  and  acquired  dis- 
cipline, and  when  a  large  proportion  of  those  whose 

2  Address  at  Ordination  Anniversary. 
8  Ibid. 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  63 

preparation  thus  far  has  been  for  the  ministry  turn 
aside  to  some  other  vocation.  Hunger's  rebellion 
against  college  routine,  however,  was  of  brief  dura- 
tion, and  much  too  slight  to  affect  his  long-cherished 
purpose.  Nothing  can  be  more  explicit  than  his 
assurance,  "I  entered  the  ministry  because  I  had 
never  for  a  moment  thought  of  doing  anything  else." 

The  correspondence  with  Jenkins  shows  in  how 
genuine  a  spirit  of  consecration  the  decisive  step  was 
finally  taken.  Both  young  men  were  "placing  before 
them  the  object  of  life,  and  living  for  it  and  it 
alone."  Service  was  its  keynote.  The  dissatisfaction 
with  college  drill  has  vanished,  and  each  looks  for- 
ward with  keen  relish  to  resuming  work  at  Yale. 

Some  of  the  "long,  long  thoughts"  of  the  summer 
evenings  on  the  hill  may  have  been  due  to  the  new 
contacts  gained  during  college  days  with  literature 
and  social  life.  They  foreshadowed,  perhaps,  the  dis- 
satisfaction of  later  years  with  current  interpretations 
of  religious  truth,  a  dissatisfaction  destined  to  make 
him  one  of  the  helpers  of  a  perplexed  generation  into 
larger  Freedom  of  Faith.  There  still  exists  a  manu- 
script book  of  "Meditations,  Thoughts,  Quotations, 
etc.,"  covering  the  years  1853-1856,  in  which  the 
young  student  of  theology  has  set  down  in  seventy- 
six  entries,  varying  from  a  few  lines  to  several  pages 


64     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

in  length,  the  fruits  of  his  reading  and  meditation. 
Style  and  language  are  as  careful  and  well  chosen 
as  if  intended  for  incorporation  in  sermons.  That 
such  was  actually  the  fate  of  several  has  been  noted 
on  the  margin.  We  may  reasonably  infer  that  it  was 
a  habit  of  real  thinking — not  of  mere  day-dreaming — 
which  was  begun  on  the  hillside  at  Homer.  One 
whom  the  American  people  have  recently  called  to 
the  highest  office  and  responsibility  in  their  gift  has 
said: 

If  I  were  to  choose  again  (after  Lincoln)  a  man  to  inject 
into  modern  American  life,  I  would  take  some  man  who  in 
his  youth  had  had  time  to  think.  A  man  who  had  spent  his 
boyhood  in  some  quiet  covert,  where  it  is  possible  for  the 
mind  to  indulge  in  what  most  Americans  never  indulge  in — 
that  is  to  say,  reverie,  contemplation.* 

Such  was  the  quiet  covert  on  the  hillside  at  Homer. 
The  youth's  meditations  there,  if  they  "loosened  the 
framework  of  Calvinism,"  did  not  check  the  deep 
springs  of  his  religious  faith,  nor  shake  for  a  moment 
the  conviction  of  his  calling.  The  year  at  home  was 
one  that  strengthened  the  parental  influence.  It 
brought  him  above  all  into  a  close  sympathy  with  his 
mother's  gentle  and  joyous  faith,  which  was  to  be 

*  Speech  on  Lincoln's  Birthday  by  Woodrow  Wilson  at  Berca  College, 
1911. 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  65 

a  source  of  help  and  refreshment  for  many  years  to 
come.  But  it  also  had  no  small  effect  in  confirming 
this  sense  of  his  vocation.  "I  suspect  that  at  the 
bottom  of  this  whole  matter,"  he  wrote  in  later  retro- 
spect, "was  the  example  of  my  father's  daily  life." 
"Advice  from  my  wise  father"  was  also  numbered 
among  the  chief  advantages  of  this  year  at  home. 
Doubtless  it  included  counsels  regarding  an  effective 
use  of  further  educational  opportunities;  but  of  this 
we  are  not  told.  The  one  counsel  of  which  we  have 
testimony  concerns  only  the  field  of  service.  It  was 
simple  and  characteristic:  "Accept  the  first  call 
given  you."  When  the  time  for  decision  came  this 
advice  was  implicitly  followed. 

Although  his  room  in  Divinity  Hall  removed  Mun- 
ger  from  the  former  closeness  of  contact  with  his 
uncle's  family,  he  continued  to  avail  himself  of  the 
high  privileges  of  his  former  home.  He  was  tempera- 
mentally fitted  to  get  from  it  far  more  than  many 
another  might,  and  the  relations  entered  upon  in  his 
undergraduate  days  he  had  the  wisdom  to  appreciate 
and  continue.  He  had,  indeed,  an  instinct  for  find- 
ing and  entering  into  that  sympathetic,  helpful 
friendship  with  older  women  which  has  well  been 
termed  one  of  the  strongest  of  educative  influences. 

Some  few  contacts  took  place  also  during  the  col- 


66  THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

lege  and  seminary  daj^s  with  his  Selden  relatives  in 
Middle  Haddam  and  Middletown.  In  early  spring 
of  1856,  Theodore's  Grandmother  Selden  had  died, 
and  her  illness  and  death  occasioned  some  brief  visits. 
But  fulness  of  duties  and  emptiness  of  purse  were 
almost  equally  potent  to  keep  him  close-bound  to 
New  Haven.  Of  contact  with  his  father's  relatives 
in  Guilford  we  have  no  record  at  all. 

If  from  these  home  and  social  surroundings  we 
turn  to  those  of  seminarj'-  life,  evidence  remains  of 
conscientious  method  on  the  part  of  the  j^oung  stu- 
dent in  the  improvement  of  his  opportunities.  His 
notebooks  of  lectures  on  History  by  President 
Woolsey  in  the  final  undergraduate  year,  and  that 
of  seminary  lectures  by  Professor  Josiah  Willard 
Gibbs  on  Theological  Encyclopaedia  and  Hermeneu- 
tics,  are  still  preserved,  and  contain,  besides  the  out- 
line of  these  studies,  extracts  from  collateral  reading, 
and  full  notes,  systematically  taken,  of  the  sermons 
of  great  divines,  Woolsey,  Tajdor,  Bushnell,  Fitch, 
Bacon,  Fisher,  and  others,  heard  from  Sunday  to 
Sunday  in  the  coUege  chapel  and  in  the  churches  of 
the  city.  The  sermon  notes  cover  the  academic  years 
1852-1853  and  1853-1854,  filling  all  the  latter  part 
of  the  large  notebooks,  whose  earlier  pages  are  scant- 
ily occupied  with  the  lecture  notes.     Comparison  is 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  67 

unwarranted,  but  one  is  tempted  to  suspect  that  the 
young  theologue  found  the  actual  delivery  of  ser- 
mons more  in  line  with  his  immediate  wants  than  the 
prescribed  studies  of  the  curriculum.  Few  courses 
of  lectures  could  have  greater  value  in  practical 
training  for  pulpit  work  than  these  carefully  written- 
out  sketches  of  sermons  by  great  preachers  and 
theologians.  They  include,  among  others,  a  very  full 
report  of  the  famous  sermon  of  Bushnell  on  "The 
Greatness  of  Man  Seen  in  his  Ruin."  This  was 
preached  November  27,  1853,  at  the  "North"  Church, 
of  which  Munger  himself  more  than  thirty  years  later 
was  to  become  pastor. 

In  the  same  church,  on  March  20,  1855,  just  at  the 
close  of  Munger's  seminary  course,  occurred  one  of 
the  most  stirring  scenes  of  New  Haven's  history.  It 
was  the  appeal  of  the  pastor.  Dr.  Dutton,  aided  by 
Henry  Ward  Beecher,  in  behalf  of  the  company  of 
free-soil  settlers  on  their  way  to  Kansas.  Beecher 
urged  that  they  be  supplied  not  only  with  Bibles,  but 
with  arms  to  resist  the  attempts  of  border  ruffians  to 
drive  them  from  their  homes.  The  appeal  was 
responded  to  by  a  contribution  sufficient  for  the  pur- 
chase of  twenty-seven  Sharpe's  rifles  at  twenty-five 
dollars  each.  Whether  the  young  antislavery  ethusi- 
ast  in  the  Divinity  School  was  present  on  this  occa- 


68  THEODORE  THORNTON  IMUNGER 

sion  we  have  no  record,  but  if  not  it  surely  was  not 
from  lack  of  sympathy. 

The  contemporary  theological  discussions  scarcely 
interested  him.  It  would  be  easy  indeed  to  form  too 
disparaging  a  judgment  of  the  courses  of  study  and 
what  they  could  furnish,  if  we  relied  wholly  on  the 
contrast  drawn  by  Hunger  himself  at  a  later  time 
between  these  and  the  modern  curriculum.  Against 
the  statement  that  he  "followed  Dr.  Taylor  through 
a  course  of  theology  which  soon  ceased  to  have  much 
meaning"  for  him,  it  is  onlj^  fair  to  set  his  contem- 
porary judgment,  written  to  his  classmate  Noble,  lit- 
tle more  than  a  year  after  the  letter  explaining  his 
change  of  plan  in  not  returning  to  New  Haven.  It 
is  under  date  December  14,  1852,  that  he  writes: 

I  wish  you  could  listen  to  a  course  of  lectures  from  Dr. 
Taylor,  He  is  the  strongest,  clearest,  most  convincing 
thinker  I  ever  met  with,  and  I  may  say,  ever  read. 
He  has  a  system  of  mental  philosophy  of  his  own  which  is 
unlike  any  other,  and  as  his  system  of  theology  is  built  upon 
that  he  lectures  to  us  a  whole  term  upon  it.  I  cannot  imagine 
a  more  thorough  discipline  than  could  be  gained  from  this 
course,  and  it  is  as  useful  to  the  lawyer  as  to  the  divinity 
student.  As  I  said,  all  my  old  opinions  are  completely  cast 
adrift,  yet  I  hope  to  get  foundations  that  will  stand  the 
test  of  logic,  and  will  not  fail  in  unlooked-for  crises. 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  69 

The  year  after  graduation  had  seen  no  interrup- 
tion of  college  friendships.  Letters  from  Jenkins 
and  Jessup  show  how  all  three  were  weighing 
the  merits  of  the  principal  theological  schools  against 
one  another,  and  against  their  desire  to  be  together. 
Jenkins  had  expected  Munger  to  return  with  him  at 
the  close  of  the  summer  to  enter  Yale  Divinity 
School,  and  was  much  disappointed  at  the  change  of 
plan  which  kept  him  in  Homer,  though  he  himself 
later  decided  to  spend  the  year  in  other  work,  and 
secured  an  appointment  to  teach  in  the  Academy  at 
Leicester,  Mass.  Jessup  spent  a  year  of  study  in 
Montrose,  but  after  careful  deliberation  elected 
Union  Seminary,  New  York,  as  affording  the  best 
training.  He  even  secured  a  promise  from  Munger 
to  take  the  next  year  (1853-1854)  at  Union  if  Jessup 
would  be  his  roommate.  However,  the  ensuing  year 
we  find  Jenkins  and  Munger  trying  to  draw  Jessup 
to  New  Haven  instead  of  themselves  being  drawn  to 
Union.  A  letter  from  Jessup,  dated  November  4, 
1852,  is  of  interest  in  this  connection;  for  it  indicates 
how  the  two  friends  at  Yale  had  enlarged  upon  its 
advantages.  They  are  met  by  equal  appreciation  of 
those  at  Union.  But  the  correspondence  is  chiefly 
significant  for  its  evidence  of  the  spirit  which  ani- 
mated all  three  and  which  it  is  very  obvious  was  no 


70     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

new  thing,  but  an  inheritance  of  former  college  days. 
Jessiip  writes: 

I  cannot  but  be  humbly  and  sincerely  thankful  when  I 
recollect  how  we  were  wont  to  bring  our  mutual  hopes,  and 
breathe  our  united  prayers  to  our  heavenly  Father  upon  a 
common  altar — and  that  we  are  now  entering  upon  the 
work  which  is  the  consummation  of  those  hopes,  and,  I  trust, 
to  be  blessed  in  answer  to  those  prayers. 

Nothing  would  please  me  more  than  to  enjoy  a  renewal 
of  that  delightful  personal  intercourse,  especially  in  our 
theological  studies ;  but  I  am  so  well  satisfied  with  the  course 
of  things  here,  that  I  feel  more  like  urging  you  to  come 
here,  than  consenting  to  exchange  my  place  for  yours. 

The  writer  goes  on  to  refer  to  the  lectures  given  by 
Dr.  Edward  Robinson,  which  later  formed  the  epoch- 
making  volumes  of  "Palestinian  Research."  He 
refers  next  to  "Prof.  H.  B.  Smith"  as  "inferior  to 
no  man  in  Yale,  excepting  your  giant.  Dr.  Taylor," 
and  proceeds  thereafter  to  describe  the  character  and 
spirit  of  the  Junior  class  of  which  he  is  a  member,  a 
class  then  numbering  thirty-one.  The  personal 
matters  with  which  the  letter  closes  include  one 
further  item  of  special  interest: 

I  am  glad  to  hear  favorable  reports  from  my  cousin 
Elisha  [Mulford].     Encourage  him  to  keep  an  "eye  to  the 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  71 

Lord  Jesus,"  for  he  is  beset  with  trying  difficulties.  I  do 
not  allude  to  any  one  thing  in  particular,  but  the  almost 
irresistible  tendency  in  college  to  spiritual  decHne.  You 
can  appreciate  my  feelings,  I  trust. 

Mulford  had  been  an  object  of  solicitude  to  the  two 
friends  for  several  months;  for  Hunger's  affection 
for  the  handsome,  graceful  boy,  though  a  case  of  love 
at  first  sight,  was  no  mere  passing  fancy.  Of  their 
first  meeting  Munger  writes : 

When  at  home  from  college  one  vacation  I  called  on  a 
group  of  Jessups  and  Mulfords  and  by  way  of  entertainment 
Elisha  passed  around  a  dish  of  cracked  walnuts.  His  beauty 
and  his  manners  impressed  me  in  a  way  I  shall  never  forget. 
A  boy  with  the  forehead  of  a  girl — so  pure  and  white  was  it, 
modest  to  shyness  and  yet  with  the  dignity  of  a  man,  while 
the  grace  with  which  he  served  his  simple  offering  might 
have  been  envied  by  a  courtier.  It  was  more  than  highbred; 
it  was  the  early  growth  and  perfection  of  an  abiding  grace 
of  manner  that  never  forsook  him. 

But  it  was  not  the  casual  impression  of  manly 
beauty  that  laid  the  foundations  for  Hunger's  long 
friendship  with  Mulford,  "the  friend  of  my  mind  as 
well  as  my  heart."  In  their  first  days  of  divinity 
training  the  group  of  friends  were  already  paving  the 
way  for  a  younger  associate  who  in  genius  perhaps 


72  THEODORE  THORNTON  IMUNGER 

excelled  them  all.  We  may  fittingly  close  this  series 
of  extracts  bearing  on  the  value  of  the  training  then 
to  be  had  in  the  leading  schools  of  divinity,  by  a  pas- 
sage from  the  earliest  of  the  long  series  of  ^Nlunger's 
letters  to  Mulford.  INIulford  had  but  recently  grad- 
uated, and  seeks  advice  from  Munger  as  to  where  he 
should  begin  his  ministerial  training.  The  advice  is 
given  after  a  year  of  parish  work — the  letter  is  dated 
Dorchester,  Mass.,  December  26,  1856 — from  expe- 
rience in  two  seminaries,  Yale  and  Andover;  for 
Munger,  after  graduating  at  Yale  Divinity  School, 
had  spent  one  fall  term  at  Andover. 

After  a  preliminary  expression  of  his  own  diffi- 
culty, not  in  preaching  so  as  to  win  acceptance  with 
both  thinking  and  unthinking,  but  so  "that  the  gospel 
shall  have  its  proper  effect,"  the  writer  continues : 

You  ask  about  Taylor  and  Park.  As  to  securing  a  knowl- 
edge of  New  England  theology,  you,  with  your  habits  of 
mind  and  study  would  acquire  a  thorough  understanding  of 
it  at  either  place.  Park  will  give  it  to  you  more  complete 
and  in  neater  form.  You  will  grasp  it  more  easily  from  liim. 
Taylor  impresses  you  with  its  strong  and  distinctive  features. 
Taylor  makes  you  feel  it  more,  but  he  does  not  put  it  into 
such  shape  that  you  can  retail  it  out  Sunday  by  Sunday  in 
the  right  proportion.  Park  does.  This  may  strike  you, 
however,  as  not  the  most  important  thing  in  the  world. 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  73 

As  to  acquaintance  with  Theology,  either  place  will  help 
you  sufficiently.  This  is  not  the  point  in  which  I  think  the 
institutions  are  to  be  compared.  The  comparison  is  to  be 
made  as  to  the  effects  they  produce  upon  your  mental  habits, 
and  in  this  respect  I  put  Taylor  far  above  Park.  Indeed, 
I  think  it  is  this  influence  which  constitutes  Taylor's  value 
as  a  teacher.  Park  is  perfectly  round  and  smooth.  Noth- 
ing strikes  you.  He  makes  everything  perfectly  clear — 
infant  baptism,  and  the  plan  of  redemption — but,  he 
impresses  you  no  more  with  one  than  the  other.  He  floods 
you  with  proof  and  illustrations,  but  somehow  they  never 
get  further  than  your  note-book. 

He  instructs  you  wonderfully,  but  he  does  not  edify,  and  I 
take  it  no  set  of  men  need  edifying  so  much  as  theological 
students.  Yet  Park  is  a  splendid  man  and  a  splendid  teacher. 
You  should  hear  him,  and  especially  you  should  know  him. 
I  can  certainly  assure  you  that  he  would  take  to  you. 

Taylor,  on  the  other  hand,  exercises  a  positive  power  upon 
you.  He  is  a  genius  in  theology — an  enthusiast,  and  he 
makes  you  feel.  Somehow  he  plants  a  truth  within  a  man 
and  it  becomes  life  and  power.  You  will  think  for  weeks 
on  some  thought  or  view  that  he  throws  out.  In  short  he  is 
a  Teacher,  and  a  true  Teacher  is  rarer  than  a  true  Poet. 
Should  you  hear  him  you  would  probably  at  first  revolt  from 
him.  You  would  be  disgusted  with  his  dogmatism  and  won- 
der where  his  power  lies.  But  wait  and  yield  yourself  to 
his  influence  and  soon  you  will  see  and  feel  it. 


74     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

The  chief  effects  of  his  teaching,  I  think,  are  these.  He 
makes  you  feel  a  few  important  truths  strongly.  He  makes 
you  think  for  yourself;  and  no  man  can  be  effective  without 
some  degree  of  these. 

The  advice  sent  to  Mulford  from  Dorchester 
shows  that  the  delay  of  Munger's  "mental  and  moral 
awakening"  until  the  period  of  study  at  Andover  was 
not  due  to  inferiority  of  training  or  opportunity  at 
Yale.  Among  external  conditions  which  led  up  to 
it  a  more  potent  factor  than  the  courses  of  lectures 
may  have  been  the  group  of  brilliant  j^oung  men  who 
were  thrown  together  as  fellow-students,  and  who 
remained  fast  friends  thereafter.  This  group 
included  besides  Munger  and  Jenkins,  Alexander 
S.  Twombly  (Yale  '54)  of  literary  fame,  J.  Lewis 
Diman  (Brown  '51),  and  Kingsley  Twining  (Yale 
*53). 

In  the  packet  of  documents  containing  Dr.  Mun- 
ger's ministerial  credentials,  the  document  of  earliest 
date  is  his  "Approbation  to  Preach,"  certifying  that 
he  appeared  "at  a  meeting  of  the  Associated  Pastors 
of  New  Haven  Centre,"  held  in  the  surburban  town 
of  Orange,  July  12,  1854,  and 

was   commended    to    examination    by    Rev.    N.    W.    Taylor, 
D.D.,  whereupon  after  a  full  and  free  examination  of  him 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  75 

concerning  his  religious  history  and  experience,  his  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  the  system  of  Christian 
doctrines,  his  views  of  the  Ministry,  and  his  qualifications 
generally  for  that  work,  he  was  approved  by  vote. 

The  first  signature  appended  is  that  of  Leonard 
Bacon,  pastor  of  the  First  Church,  New  Haven. 

Examination  for  approbation  to  preach  was  no 
slight  ordeal  when  conducted  in  the  presence  of 
veterans  such  as  Taylor  and  Bacon.  These  fathers 
of  the  Connecticut  churches  were  scrupulous  of  the 
rights  of  the  local  Congregational  church  to  ordain 
and  install  as  pastor  and  teacher  the  man  of  its  own 
choice,  even  against  the  advice  of  sister  churches. 
But  for  that  very  reason  they  were  the  more  conscious 
of  their  own  responsibility,  as  ministers  voluntarily 
uniting  in  free  associations,  to  lend  the  endorsement 
of  their  approval  to  no  candidates  for  ecclesiastical 
office  who  had  not  furnished  ample  evidence  of  both 
character  and  competency.  It  is  a  system  capable  of 
being  reduced  to  travesty  if  mere  conformity  to 
orthodox  standards  be  accepted  as  a  substitute  for 
evidence  of  character,  consecration,  and  ability  to 
teach  and  preach.  But  conformity  has  never  been 
the  ideal  of  the  Connecticut  churches,  and  in  the  year 
which  saw  the  last  vain  effort  to  restrain  the  inspired 


76     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

genius  of  Bushnell  with  the  halter  of  ecclesiastical 
discipline,  an  examination  of  the  New  Haven  Central 
Association  for  approbation  to  preach  is  likely  to 
have  called  forth  other  "qualifications  for  the  work  of 
the  ministry." 

We  may  cite  a  paragraph  or  two  from  IVIunger's 
own  "Life  of  Bushnell"  to  indicate  what  sort  of 
atmosphere  prevailed  in  these  years  1853-1854  in  the 
ministerial  associations  of  Hartford  and  New  Haven. 

In  June,  1853,  a  third  effort  was  made  by  the  Fairfield 
West  Association  to  bring  Bushnell  to  trial.  The  form  of 
attack  was  a  demand,  signed  by  fifty  ministers,  that  the 
Hartford  Central  (Bushnell's)  Association  be  excluded  from 
the  general  body,  on  the  ground  that  by  protecting  Bush- 
nell it  had  sanctioned  a  scheme  wliich  "is  a  corruption  of 
God's  holy  truth,  a  subversion  of  all  ^^tal  and  fundamental 
doctrines  of  Christianity,  and  destructive  of  confidence  in 
revelation  itself."  ...  A  long  and  bitter  debate  (in  the 
General  Association)  was  brought  to  a  close  by  an  adroit 
resolution  presented  by  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon:  "With  the 
opinions  imputed  to  Dr.  Bushnell  by  the  complainants,  we 
have  no  fellowship.  Candidates  for  the  ministry  who  profess 
them  should  not  be  approved.  Ministers  reasonably  charged 
with  holding  them  are  properly  subject  to  discipline  in  due 
form  and  order.  But  whether  these  opinions  are  justly 
imputed  to  Dr.  Bushnell,  or  not,  depends  upon  the  construe- 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  77 

tion  given  to  certain  quotations  from  his  books ;  and  upon 
that  question  we  have  nothing  to  say." 


The  final  effort  of  the  Fairfield  West  was  made  the  next 
year,  1854,  at  the  annual  meeting  (in  June)  in  New  Haven. 
Resolutions  were  introduced  requesting  the  General  Asso- 
ciation "to  cease  from  appointing  persons  to  certify  to  the 
standing  of  ministers  in  its  connection." 

Once  more  catholicity  and  freedom  prevailed,  mak- 
ing this,  as  our  author  notes,  "probably  the  last  effort 
that  will  be  made  in  New  England  to  bring  an  author 
to  trial  for  his  theological  opinions."  And  the  men 
who  stood  by  Bushnell,  defending  his  right  to  differ, 
and  finally  establishing  the  principle  of  freedom  for 
the  ministry,  were  the  same  New  Haven  divines  who 
had  issued  the  first,  and  in  some  respects  the  severest, 
criticism  of  Bushnell's  opinions.  It  is  one  of  the 
anomalies  of  Hunger's  seminary  career  that  he  and 
his  classmates  in  the  New  Haven  school  should  have 
taken  (so  far  as  our  records  show)  no  special  inter- 
est in  these  events,  so  significant  for  the  history  of 
Congregationalism. 

Our  young  preacher's  growth  during  these  semi- 
nary years  in  ability  to  handle  the  great  subjects  of 
his  calling  must  be  largely  left  to  inference.     His 


78     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

letters  and  reminiscences  are  mainly  concerned  with 
other  things.  This  to  his  mother,  written  from  New 
Haven,  March  7,  1854,  on  the  Tuesday  after  his  first 
occupation  of  the  pulpit — for  occasional  preaching 
was  permitted  then,  as  now,  by  special  recommenda- 
tion, in  advance  of  formal  approbation — will  show 
the  spirit  in  which  the  new  responsibility  was  taken 
up: 

My  dear  Mother: 

As  it  is  so  long  since  I  have  written  you,  and  as  my  birth- 
day is  just  past,  I  think  I  ought  to  write  you  rather  than 
any  other  of  the  family,  though,  as  you  know,  I  intend  ray 
letters — what  few  I  write — for  all  the  family. 

Another  circumstance  happened  on  Sunday,  my  birthday, 
which  I  wish  to  tell  you,  as  it  is  probably  of  especial  interest 
to  you.  Sunday  was  a  birthday  in  more  than  one  sense  to 
me.  As  marking  the  number  of  the  years  of  my  life  it  was 
the  twenty-f ourth ;  but  with  reference  to  my  course  in  the 
ministry  it  was  my  first  birthday,  for  I  then  preached  my 
first  sermon.  ...  I  preached  in  Mt.  Carmel,  which  is  the 
first  place  mentioned  in  "Shadyside."  I  think  it  is  there 
called  "Salem."  Good  "Deacon  El}^"  and  the  deacon  who 
was  the  "left  hand  cipher,"  and  other  people  mentioned  in 
the  book,  were  among  my  hearers.   .    .    . 

As  to  my  preaching,  /  cannot  of  course  tell  you  whether 
it  was  good  or  not,  but  I  succeeded  much  better  than  I 
anticipated.    I  was  not  at  all  frightened  and  felt  very  much 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  79 

f 

at  ease  in  the  pulpit.  I  held  their  attention  very  well,  and 
heard  that  my  sermon  was  liked.  Mr.  T[hayer],^  of  course, 
would  praise  my  sermon.  But  because  I  succeeded  there 
it  is  no  indication  that  I  should  succeed  before  a  city  congre- 
gation, or  your  congregations  in  Homer  and  Cortland.  All 
I  hope  is  to  find  some  small  country  congregation  whose 
wants  I  can  supply  as  a  teacher  of  God's  word.  Everyone 
has  liis  place  in  the  world,  and  if  I  do  not  find  mine  to  be 
in  the  ministry,  I  hope  I  shall  have  wisdom  to  perceive  it 
and  enough  strength  of  character  to  leave  it. 

The  summer  vacation  of  1854  was  again  spent  in 
Homer,  where  an  interview  with  the  new  pastor  of 
the  church,  Rev.  Dr.  Lounsbury,  helped  the  young 
preacher  in  his  calling.  It  left  its  mark  in  another 
event  which  remained  an  abiding  and  grateful 
memory  in  the  young  preacher's  soul — his  parents' 
satisfaction  in  the  first  fruits  of  his  work.  In  the  old 
home  church  at  Homer  he  had  conducted  the  service 
on  invitation  of  the  pastor,  his  parents  worshiping  in 
the  congregation.  His  mother  hardly  raised  her  eyes 
during  the  sermon,  the  boy  knowing  that  her  heart 
was  too  full  of  prayer  for  him  and  thankfulness  to 
God.  His  father's  only  comment  after  the  service 
was  the  single  sentence,  "You  preached  a  very  good 

5  Pastor  of  the  church  in  the  village  of  Mt.  Carmel,  ten  miles  north 
of  New  Haven,  on  whose  invitation  Hunger  was  preaching. 


80     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

sermon."  But  it  was  uttered  with  a  "calm  and  fixed 
earnestness"  that  impressed  it  indelibly  on  the  heart 
of  his  son/ 

From  the  scanty  records  of  the  closing  seminary 
year  we  have  but  two  inferences  to  draw.  It  was  a 
year  of  increasing  opportunitj^  for  pulpit  service, 
engaged  in  with  some  reluctance,  and  never  without 
careful  and  sober  preparation.  Invitations  to  preach 
were  frequent  and  many  were  accepted,  the  incidental 
earnings  being  a  welcome  aid  in  reducing  the  debt 
incurred  for  college  expenses.  Mt.  Carmel  appears 
a  second  time  on  the  list  during  this  winter,  along 
with  Birmingham  and  North  Cornwall  in  Litchfield 
County,  a  rather  long  Sabbath  day's  journey.  There 
were  several  successive  engagements  in  the  last-named 
towns,  Birmingham  having  three  preaching  services 
on  3Iarch  25,  1855,  after  which  the  preacher  iccdked 
the  ten  miles  to  New  Haven  to  save  forty  cents  car- 
fare. By  this  means  he  was  enabled  to  apply  nine 
dollars  and  sixty  cents  out  of  his  ten-dollar  honora- 
rium toward  the  payment  of  his  debts,  and  he  speaks 

8  The  reminiscence  is  one  of  the  latest  of  Dr.  Munger's  life  and  refers 
to  "my  first  preaching  in  Homer  after  my  ordination,  before  my  father 
and  my  mother."  As  his  diary  for  1856  contains  a  record  of  preaching 
in  Homer  on  January  6,  a  month  before  his  ordination,  the  word 
"approbation"  should  probably  be  substituted  in  the  reminiscence  for 
"ordination." 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  81 

confidently  of  being  able  to  leave  New  Haven  free  of 
debt.  Jenkins  and  he  are  planning  to  go  together 
early  in  May  to  Andover,  where  they  expect  to  be 
able  to  support  themselves  by  preaching  until  at  least 
the  opening  of  the  fall  term.  The  fame  of  Park  is  not 
the  only  attraction.  Andover  was  considered  to  have 
an  "invigorating  climate."  Throat  trouble  of  a  some- 
what serious  character  had  made  its  appearance  in 
connection  with  much  preaching  and  "influenza"  and 
"the  doctor  advises  me  strongly  to  leave  New  Haven 
lest  my  throat  disease  become  chronic,  and  so  trouble- 
some." 

The  winter  of  1854-1855  was  one  of  special  solici- 
tude for  the  religious  welfare  of  the  home  circle.  A 
"revival"  had  been  in  progress  in  Homer,  and  among 
those  first  led  to  conviction  of  the  need  of  grace  were 
Theodore's  two  j^ounger  brothers,  John  Hezekiah,  or 
"Ki,"  and  Edward.^  A  long  letter  of  sympathy  and 
advice  addressed  to  "Dear  brother  Ki"  on  February 
8  expressed  both  joy  and  anxiety  at  the  news  of  his 
hopeful  conversion.  Very  elaborate  advice  is  given, 
as  befits  an  older  brother  just  entering  the  ministry, 
but  there  is  abundant  evidence  of  the  pervasive  revi- 
val atmosphere  in  spite  of  all  that  in  Hunger's  case 

7  A  letter  from  "Ki"  gives  us  insight  not  only  into  the  boy's  religious 
experience,  but  also  into  the  truly  remarkable  phenomena  of  this  revival. 


82  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

had  tended  to  counteract  it.  Phrases  such  as  the  fol- 
lowing slip  from  his  pen,  "When  one  is  convicted  and 
finds  peace  after  his  anguish,  there  will  be  much  feel- 
ing and  excitement."  The  advice  to  make  "a  cool, 
intelligent  renunciation  of  the  world"  is  certainly 
sound,  and  the  deprecation  of  excitement  shows 
appreciation  of  the  characteristic  dangers  to  which 
revivalism  is  exposed.  But  the  system  itself  is 
accepted.  A  few  weeks  later  Theodore  writes  to  his 
mother : 

I  wish  I  could  be  with  you  now  on  account  of  the  revival. 
I  think  it  would  do  me  good;  and  even  the  knowledge  that 
you  were  in  the  midst  of  such  scenes  has  been  of  benefit  to 
me.  I  rejoice  with  you  that  we  are  permitted  to  hope  that 
Ki  and  Eddy  have  exercised  saving  faith  in  Christ.  ...  I 
have  also  written  Selden  (his  older  brother  at  this  time 
married  and  in  business  in  Potterville,  N.  Y.)  on  religious 
matters.    Let  our  prayers  go  up  for  him  also  till  he  be  saved. 

The  minute  analj^sis  of  "feelings  and  views,"  the 
diagnosis  and  prognosis  of  the  course  of  sj^mptoms 
each  soul  is  expected  to  pass  through,  has  in  our  time 
a  curiously  pathological  appearance.  But  of  its 
reality  to  devout  people  there  can  be  no  question. 
And  to  young  Munger  it  seemed  only  the  excres- 
cences and  abuses  of  revivalism  which  were  open  to 
criticism.    To  many  at  that  time,  the  coming  of  a  soul 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  83 

into  wholesome  relations  with  God  apart  from  the 
recognized  process  would  have  seemed  as  strange  as 
the  healing  of  a  wound  by  first  intention. 

The  plan  of  studying  for  a  time  at  Andover  after 
completing  the  course  at  Yale  was  ultimately  carried 
out,  though  Jenkins  was  disappointed  in  his  expecta- 
tion of  the  immediate  coming  of  his  friend.  May  11, 
1855,  sees  him  already  established  at  Andover,  with 
adequate  means  of  support  from  preaching.  But 
Munger  had  not  accompanied  him  in  this  early  flight. 
He  spent  the  summer  in  Homer.  On  September  24, 
1855,  a  letter  from  Andover  to  his  mother  reports  his 
safe  arrival  and  occupation  of  quarters  in  a  large  attic 
room  "twenty  feet  square,  with  matting  for  a  carpet," 
having  a  delightful  view  to  the  south  and  east.  "The 
charge  for  room  and  board  is  $4.00  per  week."  Here, 
among  his  college  friends,  in  regular  attendance  on 
the  lectures,  with  occasional  preaching  in  the  neigh- 
boring pulpits,  he  spent  the  three  months  of  the  fall 
term;  and  here  occurred  that  moral  and  spiritual 
awakening  of  his  whole  nature  to  which  he  later 
testified. 

The  Village  Church  of  Dorchester  Lower  Mills 
was  one  of  those  whose  pulpit  Munger  was  called 
upon  to  supply  during  his  student  life  at  Andover, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  this  church  reached  the 


84,     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

decision  that  it  required  his  services  as  settled  pastor. 
Its  leading  member  was  a  Mr.  Cyrus  Brewer,  one  of 
the  few  of  wealth  and  position  in  that  small  industrial 
community.  Mr.  Brewer  was  a  cultured  gentleman 
to  whose  friendship,  Christian  sympathy,  and  hearty 
cooperation  the  j^oung  pastor  owed  much  in  the  first 
years  of  his  ministry.  Under  date  of  November  15, 
1855,  ISIr.  Brewer  writes  to  report  the  action  of  a 
church  meeting  held  the  previous  Tuesday,  resulting 
in  a  unanimous  call  to  Munger  to  become  their  pastor 
at  a  salary — as  liberal  as  the  parish  could  afford — of 
$800.  The  unanimity  was  not  formal  or  perfunctory. 
Mr.  Brewer  writes: 

Never  since  the  organization  of  the  church  has  there  been 
so  much  union  of  sentiment  upon  a  similar  matter.  I  have 
been  unable  to  learn  that  there  is  even  an  indi\'idual  member 
of  the  whole  parish  who  does  not  regard  you  as  the  best 
man  for  us. 

We  might  anticipate  such  unanimity  if  the  young 
preacher  had  previously  intimated — as  custom  re- 
quires— that  he  was  prepared  to  give  favorable  con- 
sideration to  a  call.  Munger's  talents  and  prepara- 
tion were  such  as  to  make  it  reasonably  certain  that 
he  had  only  to  bide  his  time  to  be  offered  a  much  more 
inviting  field  of  service,  at  larger  remuneration.    This 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  85 

fact  was  certainly  quite  apparent  to  the  Village 
Church.  Indeed,  Jenkins  felt  called  upon  to  expostu- 
late in  the  light  of  more  worldly  wisdom  and  experi- 
ence. Report  of  "Thede's"  sermons  by  JNIr.  (Linus) 
Child  of  Boston,  a  competent  and  unprejudiced  critic, 
convinces  Jenkins  that  "without  flattery"  his  friend 
"can  have  about  such  a  place  as  he  likes."  Eight  hun- 
dred dollars  could  not  "buj^  bread  for  two"  and  such 
a  settlement  implies  indefinite  postponement  of  all 
thought  of  marriage.  "If  it  seems  dutj^  go;  and  God 
will  bless  j^ou ;  but  realize  the  renunciation  it  implies." 
Such  are  "the  suggestions  of  Mr.  Child."  And  Jen- 
kins adds:  "His  advice  is  sound." 

But  earlier  advice  from  a  more  intimate  quarter 
prevailed.  "Accept  the  first  call  offered"  had  been 
Ebenezer  Munger's  one  counsel  to  his  son  in  matters 
regarding  the  ministry.  It  was  now  acted  upon, 
though  without  haste,  and  after  full  enquiry  and 
deliberation.  Munger's  acceptance,  however,  sent 
from  Boston  on  December  3,  was  framed  in  anytliing 
but  a  spirit  of  renunciation.  Two  reasons  are  given 
for  breaking  off  his  studies  earlier  than  he  had 
planned,  to  accept  the  caU:  (1)  "A  growing  desire  to 
be  more  actively  engaged  in  the  service  to  which,  I 
trust,  God  has  called  me;  (2)  the  apparent  fitness  of 
the  situation  for  the  commencement  of  my  labors. 


86     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

springing  from  the  unanimity  and  the  kind  considera- 
tion manifested  in  3^our  invitation."  In  the  remain- 
der of  the  letter  it  is  the  reverse  of  a  sense  of  superi- 
ority to  the  field  opened  to  him  that  controls  his 
thought.  As  his  own  later  reflection  expresses  it:  "I 
was  glad  enough  to  have  a  place  and  a  pulpit  to 
preach  in." 

Services  of  ordination  and  installation  were 
arranged,  after  much  correspondence  with  Mr. 
Brewer  and  Hunger's  ministerial  friends,  for 
Wednesday,  February  6,  1856. 

The  young  preacher  prepared  himself  to  face  again 
the  ordeal  of  an  examination  by  his  "fathers  and 
brethren"  in  the  ministrj^  The  council,  summoned 
by  "letters  missive"  from  the  Village  Church  of 
Dorchester,  would  include  also  lay  delegates  from 
neighboring  churches.  Its  enquiry  would  begin  with 
an  examination  of  the  proceedings  on  both  sides  relat- 
ing to  the  call ;  thereafter  of  the  candidate  himself  with 
respect  to  his  religious  experience,  motives  for  enter- 
ing the  ministry,  preparation,  capacity,  and  ortho- 
doxy. If  when  "by  itself" — that  is,  tlie  public  and  all 
interested  parties  having  retired — the  council  should 
vote  to  approve  the  action  of  the  church,  and  to  "join 
with  it  in  the  proposed  services  of  ordination  and 
installation,"  the  services  would  proceed.     A  joint 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  87 

committee  representing  the  church  and  council,  and 
usually  including  the  candidate,  would  indorse  or 
modify  the  prepared  program,  and  arrange  for  ser- 
vices of  worship  including  the  never-failing  "ser- 
mon." The  distinctive  features  of  a  Congregational 
ordination  service  are  five  in  number.  After  ( 1 )  the 
reading  of  the  minutes  of  the  council;  follows  (2)  the 
solemn  "ordaining  prayer,"  offered  usually  by  one  of 
the  most  venerable  of  the  attending  pastors,  while  two 
others  join  with  him  at  a  given  point  in  the  ritual  in 
laying  hands  on  the  head  of  the  kneeling  candidate, 
thus  jointly  invoking  the  gift  of  the  Spirit.  Next 
comes  (3)  the  "charge  to  the  pastor,"  based  on  the 
apostolic  message  of  Paul  to  Timothy,  or  (in  case  of 
ordination  alone,  without  installation  in  a  particular 
parish,  as  in  the  case  of  missionaries  and  teachers )  on 
the  general  apostolic  commission.  There  is  (4)  a 
"right  hand  of  fellowship"  extended  in  behalf  of 
the  churches  and  the  ministry,  usually  by  some 
recently  ordained  friend  or  associate  of  the  candidate. 
In  case  the  services  include  installation,  there  is 
lastly,  sometimes  in  less  serious  vein,  (5)  a  "charge" 
or  "address  to  the  Church  and  Ecclesiastical  Society." 
The  Congregational  polity  is  seen  at  its  best  in  the 
proper  working  of  a  council  of  ordination.  The 
intelligent  participation  of  an  absolute  democracy  of 


88     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

men  and  women,  each  of  whom  has,  after  personal 
religious  experience,  voluntarily  applied  for  and  been 
received  into  church  membership  upon  vows  of  entire 
consecration,  is  presupposed.  Every  act  has  the 
majesty  and  dignity  that  are  inseparable  from  reli- 
gious rites  performed  with  perfect  simplicity  and 
sincerity.  There  are  no  "dead"  forms.  Ritual  is 
strictly  limited  to  the  symbolism  of  Scripture,  and 
even  that  only  on  condition  of  its  still  reflecting  a  real 
and  living  sense.  On  the  other  hand  it  suffers  from 
the  weakness  of  all  pure  democracies.  It  is  no 
stronger  than  its  primary  assumption.  The  pre- 
supposition is  that  lay  members  of  churches  are  all 
men  and  women  who  have  intelligently  and  consist- 
ently consecrated  themselves  to  the  gospel  and  king- 
dom of  Christ,  and  that  ministers  are  all  qualified  by 
character,  training,  and  sense  of  their  apostolic  com- 
mission, to  be  the  representatives  and  leaders  of 
churches  thus  constituted.  Because  so  large  a 
measure  of  individual  freedom  is  granted  on  this 
fundamental  assumption,  it  becomes  the  more  easily 
possible  for  the  solemnity  and  appropriateness  of  the 
proceedings  to  be  vitiated  by  a  lack  of  individual 
responsibility.  A  generation  or  more  ago  the  danger 
was  that  councils  would  accept  mere  conformity  to  a 
conventional  type  of  traditional  orthodoxy  in  place  of 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  89 

that  all-round  fitness  of  character,  capacity,  and  train- 
ing which  the  polity  contemplates,  as  a  condition  of 
commendation  to  the  ministry.  Today  the  reaction 
against  doctrinal  forms  is  far  advanced.  Our  danger 
is  not  so  much  from  over-strictness  in  any  one  field, 
as  from  laxity  in  all.  Less  can  be  expected  today 
from  the  average  church  member  in  the  way  of  intel- 
ligent, appreciative,  and  worthy  participation  in  such 
acts  of  the  church  as  the  ordination  of  its  ministry. 
Unless  much  recent  experience  be  at  fault,  less  can 
also  be  expected  of  the  average  candidate.  There  are 
wide  regions  where  the  Congregational  polity  pre- 
vails, yet  the  ordaining  and  installing  council  is  obso- 
lescent or  unknown.  Others  exist  where  it  has  be- 
come so  perfunctory,  or  so  perverted  from  its  original 
sincerity  and  solemnity,  that  one  could  almost  prefer 
it  unknown.  How  to  conserve  in  the  future  the  spirit 
of  the  ancient  polity  under  changing  forms  is  our 
present  problem. 

"7/  the  council  approved,"  was  the  form  under 
which  at  Dorchester,  as  elsewhere,  it  was  necessary  to 
make  preparations  for  the  services  of  ordination  and 
installation.  And  the  condition  was  by  no  means  pro 
forma.  If  the  council  did  not  approve,  appeal  might 
be  taken  to  the  primary  principle  of  Congregational- 
ism, the  autonomy  of  the  local  church.    Against  the 


90     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

advice  of  its  sister  churches  represented  in  the  council, 
against  the  advice  of  any  number  of  subsequent  coun- 
cils it  might  see  fit  to  call,  the  local  church  would  still 
have  the  right  to  ordain  and  install  the  candidate. 
But  at  this  point  the  second  leading  principle  of 
Congregationalism,  the  fellowship  of  the  churches, 
would  make  itself  felt.  Counsel  invited  and  given 
under  such  solemn  sanctions  cannot  be  lightly  disre- 
garded. Instances  have  occurred  more  than  once  in 
Congregational  history  in  which  churches  have  fallen 
back  upon  this  ultimate  right,  but  seldom  without 
disaster.  Isolation  of  both  church  and  minister  auto- 
matically follows  upon  offense  given.  Rarely  indeed 
will  a  church  prove  so  unanimous  in  overriding  the 
solemn  veto  of  a  council  of  its  own  choosing  as  to 
permit  even  the  calling  of  a  second  council.  This,  if 
really  representative,  will  almost  inevitably  reaffirm 
the  verdict  of  its  predecessor.  If  not  representative, 
the  summoning  of  it  only  increases  the  isolation  first 
incurred.  Under  very  exceptional  circumstances  the 
persistent  adherents  of  a  ministerial  candidate  dis- 
approved by  council  have  organized  a  separate 
church,  ordained  (or  installed)  the  man,  and  lived 
for  a  time  their  separate  and  independent  life.  But 
the  histor}^  of  such  organizations  has  not  often  been 
such  as  to  encourage  imitation,  and  disapprobation 


TRAINING  AND  ORDINATION  91 

by  council  is  usually  final  in  the  case  of  any  proposed 
union  of  pastor  and  people.  Thus  the  Congrega- 
tional polity,  by  reducing  authority  to  its  minimum, 
has  also  approximated  its  automatic  application. 

At  Dorchester  the  session  of  the  council  was  typi- 
cal. The  examination  was  neither  perfunctory  nor 
intolerant.  The  candidate  himself  speaks  of  it  as 
follows : 

My  examination  by  council  passed  fairly  well.  One 
answer  given  was  heretical  to  such  a  degree  that  a  brother 
harnessed  his  horse  and  went  home  to  Quincy  rather  than 
countenance  this  departure  from  orthodoxy.  ...  I  gave 
the  point  up  after  a  few  months  of  reflection. 

The  escape  from  closer  treatment  was  due  to  the  elder 
Dr.  Storrs,  of  Braintree — then  an  aged  man,  but  full  of  the 
fire  of  youth,  a  man  of  great  eloquence  and  universally 
venerated,  but  his  chief  reputation  lay  in  the  fact  that 
whenever  a  minister  fell  into  any  trouble,  moral  or  heretical, 
he  had  but  to  appeal  to  Dr.  Storrs,  who  would  fight  for  him 
against  law  or  council  until  he  was  delivered.  He  easily 
persuaded  this  council  to  overlook  my  dehnquency,  and  I 
entered  into  the  ministry  with  a  fairly  good  character. 

The  services  of  ordination  and  installation  were 
accordingly  "proceeded  with"  in  this  instance,  accord- 
ing to  program.  Dr.  Storrs,  the  stalwart  champion 
of  catholicity  and  individual  common  sense,  himself 


92     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

preached  the  sermon,  and  subsequently  in  a  letter  of 
extraordinary  cordiality  expressed  his  regard  for  the 
j^oung  minister,  and  his  desire  to  show  him  every 
mark  of  fellowship.  This  expression  was  accom- 
panied by  the  very  urgent  counsel  to  take  unto  him- 
self a  worthy  wife. 

Jenkins,  himself  recently  ordained  at  Lowell,  gave 
the  right  hand  of  fellowship.  His  address,  over- 
flowing with  Christian  sympathy,  made  feeling  refer- 
ence to  the  group  of  college  and  seminary  mates,  of 
whom  some  were  already  "preaching  Christ  on  the 
Pacific  shore"  and  one  (Jessup)  but  a  few  weeks 
before  had  "sailed  for  his  work  in  Syria." 

At  the  close  of  the  evening's  services  the  young 
pastor  engaged  in  his  first  official  act  by  invoking  the 
divine  blessing,  in  the  form  of  the  Apostolic  Benedic- 
tion, upon  the  congregation  gathered  from  Dorches- 
ter and  its  neighbor  towns  in  the  Village  Church. 


CHAPTER  IV 

FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY 
1856-1860 

The  Christmas  holidays  after  the  term  at  Andover 
had  beeen  spent  by  young  Hunger  in  a  visit  home. 
The  farewells  spoken  at  its  conclusion  as  he  returned, 
ready  for  his  ordination  at  Dorchester,  were  doubtless 
charged  with  silent  regret  on  both  sides  that  his 
parents  could  not  be  present  to  witness  his  induction 
into  the  sacred  office.  Both  father  and  mother  had 
for  years  directed  their  prayers,  their  sacrifices,  and 
their  counsel  to  this  end.  But  the  family  exchequer 
was  too  limited  to  permit  the  journey.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  possess  an  example  of  what  the  son  referred 
to  as  "my  wise  father's  advice,"  which  would  scarcely 
have  been  preserved  had  it  not  been  for  these  limita- 
tions. It  is  a  letter  from  Ebenezer  Hunger  to  his 
son,  dispatched  from  Homer  immediately  after 
receiving  an  account  of  the  ordination.  The  letter  is 
docketed  in  the  son's  handwriting  "Father.  Febru- 
ary, 1856.    Advice  on  entering  my  ministry  in  Dor- 


94     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

Chester."  And  again:  "Re-read  April  23,  1872,  with 
tender  reverence  and  gratitude,  and  with  thanks  to 
God  for  the  memory  of  such  a  Father."  The  advice 
so  richly  deserves  the  son's  encomium  and  bore  such 
excellent  fruit  that  we  cannot  forbear  a  few  extracts : 

Deae  Son: 

I  recv'd  yours  of  February  7th.  You  are  now  settled 
down  permanently  and  I  have  thought  it  might  not  be  amiss 
for  me,  having  had  much  experience  with  ministers  and 
church  affairs,  to  write  to  you  making  some  suggestions  and 
giving  some  advice  to  jou,  now  as  you  are  commencing  a  new 
sphere  of  action  in  life. 

I  have  but  little  fear  about  your  pulpit  labours  that  they 
will  not  be  acceptable,  but  I  am  afraid  you  will  run  into  the 
extreme  of  laying  out  too  much  labour  upon  your  sermons, 
thinking  you  cannot  preach  any  but  of  the  most  finished 
composition.  The  first  year  of  your  ministry  you  will  form 
a  habit  of  writing  sermons  which  will  probably  last  through 
hfe,  and  it  is  important  that  you  form  good  habits  in  this 
respect.  If  you  adopt  a  hasty,  careless  manner  of  writing 
this  will  be  an  evil  on  the  other  extreme.  I  will  only  say, 
Avoid  both  extremes. 

The  other  duties  devolving  upon  you — holding  conference 
meetings,  making  pastoral  visits,  etc. — you  will  find  more 
difficult,  having  had  no  experience.  It  is  not  easy  to  give 
any  advice  on  these  subjects.  You  will  have  to  leam  by 
experience.     Perform  these  duties  in  the  fear  of  God,  looking 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  95 

to  Him  for  wisdom  to  direct  your  steps,  and  you  will  not  fail 
of  success  in  your  efforts  to  be  useful. 

The  great  and  ultimate  object  of  the  ministry  of  the 
gospel  is  to  bring  back  a  revolted  world  into  reconciliation 
with  God,  through  the  merits  of  Christ.  It  not  unf  requently 
happens  that  a  minister  labours  long  and  faithfully  and 
sees  no  good  and  immediate  result  from  his  labours.  He  sees 
no  sinners  converted,  he  becomes  discouraged,  feels  that  he 
is  doing  no  good  and  thinks  of  changing  his  position  in 
consequence.  He  forgets  the  influence  his  preaching  has 
had  in  producing  a  good  religious  and  moral  tone  in  the 
community  around  him,  that  he  has  been  sowing  the  good 
seed  of  the  word  of  God,  which  will  not  return  void,  that  he 
has  been  imbuing  the  minds  of  the  young  with  religious 
knowledge  which  will  prepare  them  to  receive  the  Saviour 
in  a  time  of  revival. 

In  the  last  Observer  I  find  this  sentence  from  Dr.  Plummer, 
"God  is  not  pleased  or  displeased  with  ministers  on  the  score 
of  success,  but  on  the  score  of  fidelity.  If  they  zealously, 
constantly,  scripturally,  present  Christ  to  the  people  in  their 
sermons  and  addresses  they  please  Him  who  has  called 
them."  After  all  I  beheve  the  success  of  a  minister  depends 
very  much  upon  his  piety,  the  state  of  his  heart.  It  is  all 
important  that  a  minister  be  spiritually  minded. 

The  early  years  of  Hunger's  ministry  cannot  be 
better  described  than  as  a  loj^al  and  persistent  en- 
deavor   to    put    in    practice    the    sound    principles 


96     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

here  inculcated.  Dorchester  Lower  [Mills  became  the 
stage  for  four  years  of  systematic,  industrious  effort 
on  the  part  of  the  young  pastor  of  the  Village  Church. 
The  parish  was  "worked,"'  to  use  his  own  expression, 
to  the  limit  of  its  capacity.  "It  was  small  in  num- 
bers," he  writes,  "and  compact  in  territory,  but  had  it 
embraced  half  of  Boston  it  would  not  have  been 
larger  than  my  own  measurement  of  it.""  He  set  to 
work  as  a  true  cultivator  of  souls,  looking  upon  each 
home  within  its  limits  as  a  garden  plot  under  his  own 
charge  and  responsibihty.  The  pastor's  visiting  book, 
carefully  kept  during  these  years,  is  still  in  existence, 
with  its  description  of  each  family,  its  membership, 
and  relation  to  the  church,  and  on  the  opposite  page 
a  record  of  visits,  marriages,  funerals,  baptisms,  and 
the  like.  A  diary,  somewhat  irregularly  kept  in 
previous  years,  assumes  an  unbroken  regularity  from 
January  1,  1856.  It  was  continued  throughout  his 
life.  Here  the  record  of  visits  appears  again,  a  sort 
of  bookkeeping  by  double  entry. 

And  system  was  not  a  substitute  for  soul,  but  its 
vehicle  and  support.  There  were  few  social  barriers 
to  full  sympathy  and  mutual  confidence  and  affec- 

1  "Class   History,"  p.  224.     "A  small  charge,  but   I   could  not  have 
worked  it  harder  had  it  been  the  largest  in  Boston." 
-  Reminiscences  at  Jubilee  of  Ordination. 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  97 

tion ;  for  while  the  opportunities  of  culture  and  refine- 
ment so  richly  afforded  the  j^oung  minister  during  the 
preceding  eight  years  of  his  life  had  been  denied  to 
most  of  his  parishioners,  there  was  little  at  that  time 
of  the  present  foreign  immigration  to  New  England 
mill  villages,  and  most  of  the  people  were  then  of  the 
same  English  Puritan  stock,  and  of  the  same  religious 
inheritance.^  Moreover,  the  young  pastor  was  quite 
as  impecunious  as  the  majority  of  his  flock.  His 
salary  of  $800  had  not  only  to  provide  food,  shelter, 
and  clothing  for  himself,  but  was  now  called  upon  to 
repay  some  of  the  home  sacrifices  made  to  secure  his 
education.  For  his  kindred  generally  this  period 
proved  financially  disastrous.  George  Smith,  the 
husband  of  his  sister  Cynthia,  had  died  in  1847,  and 
his  widow  with  her  two  children  had  returned  to  her 
parents'  home.  Theodore's  younger  brothers,  Heze- 
kiah  and  Edward,  had  barely  attained  to  self-support. 
Very  shortly  after,  the  head  of  the  household,  Eben- 
ezer  Hunger,  the  beloved  physician,  was  taken  away 
at  the  age  of  sixty-three.  His  death  occurred  after 
a  brief  attack  of  typhoid  fever,  October  15,  1857. 
Meantime  the   oldest   son,    Selden,   had  married   a 

3  Every  name  on  the  original  roll  of  membership  at  the  formation  of 
the  church  in  1829  is  of  this  distinctive  type.  The  list  is  printed  on 
p.  11  of  the  "Historical  Discourse,"  delivered  at  the  Jubilee,  1879. 


98     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

daughter  of  Judge  Fenn  of  Prattsville,  N.  Y.,  and  for 
a  few  j^ears  was  prosperously  established  with  his 
brothers-in-law  in  a  large  tannery  in  Potterville, 
N.  Y.  But  this  business  failed  in  1859  and  he  emi- 
grated to  Wisconsin  to  begin  life  again  on  a  farm  in 
the  township  of  Merton.  Thus  a  large  share  of  the 
financial  support  of  the  widowed  mother  and  sister 
came  upon  the  young  minister  before  the  end  of  his 
four  years'  pastorate  in  Dorchester.  He  was  also 
their  never-failing  comforter  and  sympathizer.  Fre- 
quent are  the  entries  in  the  cash  account  from  1856  to 
1860  of  gifts  "for  Mother"  and  "for  Cyntliia,"  besides 
occasional  disbursements  "for  Ki"  and  "for  Ed."  If, 
then,  the  Dorchester  parishioners  were  poor,  the 
pastor  was  no  richer.  But  more  than  the  mere  equal- 
ity of  condition  was  the  sentiment  which  throughout 
Munger's  life  forbade  him,  among  other  things,  ever 
to  take  fees  for  burying  a  dead  parishioner.  To  many 
the  practice  of  accepting  funeral  fees  from  parish- 
ioners will  seem  as  little  open  to  objection  as  wedding 
fees.  In  cases  where  a  service  is  rendered  to  indi- 
viduals that  make  no  contribution  to  the  minister's 
salary  it  is  obviously  fitting.  But  Munger's  sense  of 
propriety  was  too  keen  to  permit  what  he  felt  to  be  a 
taint  upon  the  service  he  was  glad  to  render  in  every 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  99 

house  of  mourning,  even  beyond  the  confines  of  his 
parochial  charge.* 

Pastoral  relations  that  leave  behind  them  senti- 
ments of  this  kind  do  not  degenerate  into  formalities. 
We  cannot  wonder,  however,  that  Theodore  writes 
to  his  mother,  under  date  September  22,  1856:  "A 
minister's  life,  if  faithful,  must  be  busy.  About  twice 
as  much  is  required  as  one  man  can  properly 
perform." 

The  pastoral  service  was  systematic  and  faithful. 
Far  more  than  this,  it  was  loving.  But  while  the 
young  pastor  showed  a  deeper  appreciation  than 
many  of  his  colleagues  of  the  value  of  this  side  of 
ministerial  service,  he  was  far  from  giving  it  the 
principal  place.  His  tendencies,  as  his  father  had 
foreseen,  were  toward  the  other  extreme.  In  his 
reminiscences,  he  writes : 

I  had  spent  all  my  adult  Hfe  thinking  and  dreaming  of 
sermons.  I  must  confess  that  I  did  not  then  believe  with 
Professor  Drummond  that  "Love  is  the  Greatest  Thing  in 
the  World."     I  thought  the  sermon  was  the  greatest  thing. 

So  sermon  writing  became  a  weekly  exercise  requir- 

4  An  article  written  by  him  in  opposition  to  the  practice  of  accepting 
funeral  fees,  in  The  Congregationalist  for  1871,  was  commented  on 
by  Dr.  Hunger  some  forty  years  later  as  correct  in  principle  though 
"violent  in  expression." 


100    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ing  utmost  care  and  study.  Nor  was  the  writing  all. 
While  still  in  New  Haven  Jenkins  and  Hunger  had 
combined  their  slender  resources  to  secure  additional 
training  for  voice  and  delivery  from  the  college 
instructor,  Prof.  Mark  Bailey,  to  whom  no  less  an 
orator  than  Abraham  Lincoln  applied  not  long  after 
for  similar  instruction.  The  vocal  exercises  practiced 
in  New  Haven  and  Homer  were  still  kept  up  syste- 
matically even  to  middle  life.  In  Dorchester  he 
resorted  for  the  purpose  to  secluded  spots  at  some 
distance  from  the  house.  Returning  to  his  lodging  on 
one  occasion  the  orator  found  considerable  difficulty 
in  securing  admission.  When  at  last  bolts  and  bars 
were  withdrawn  he  learned  that  the  unusual  precau- 
tion of  locking  up  the  house  had  been  taken  for  pro- 
tection against  "a  crazy  man  who  had  been  shouting 
around  the  place." 

That  affection  of  the  throat  which  we  saw  to  have 
been  partly  responsible  for  Hunger's  coming  to 
Andover  left  no  serious  consequences,  but  there  was, 
and  continued  to  be,  occasion  for  the  development  of 
a  more  vigorous  style  of  pulpit  delivery.  Of  this 
Hunger  himself  was  fully  conscious.  The  weakness 
was  exposed  in  his  father's  letter  of  advice.  It  was 
touched  upon  again,  both  kindly  and  courteously, 
some  years  later,  in  a  letter  from  Horace  Bushnell, 


BRONZE  TABLET  IN  MEMORIAL  HALL 
YALE  UNIVERSITY 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  101 

written  after  certain  sermons  preached  in  Bushnell's 
church  in  Hartford,  which  had  brought  Munger  into 
consideration  as  a  possible  successor  to  the  great 
preacher,  then  incapacitated  by  illness.  The  criticism 
was  that  in  delivery  Munger  was  "too  nearly  a  liter- 
ary gentleman  in  his  habit,  not  enough  of  an  apostle." 
His  years  of  systematic  effort  to  acquire  greater  vocal 
power  and  force  of  oratory  were  characteristic.  He 
did  not  acquiesce,  demanding  of  the  people  accommo- 
dation to  liis  "st3de,"  but  labored  to  perfect  himself. 

So  with  the  composition  of  sermons,  which  his 
father  had  foreseen  would  be  his  natural  bent.  The 
carefully  numbered  and  indexed  list  of  sermons  of 
these  early  years  is  still  extant.  It  grew  but  slowly; 
for  in  accepting  his  call  the  young  preacher  had  wisely 
stipulated  for  four  weeks'  vacation,  and  liberty  "to 
exchange  half  the  time  during  the  first  year,  or  as 
often  as  might  be  necessary."  Thus  not  every  week 
demanded  its  quota.  Y^et  the  writing  of  new  sermons 
in  addition  to  the  accumulations  of  seminary  days  was 
no  small  task.  The  standard  could  not  be  let  down 
to  meet  the  level  of  the  congregation.  Hunger's  own 
culture  and  self-respect  would  have  forbidden  slip- 
shod literary  work,  even  without  his  father's  warning 
and  the  frequently  recurring  stimulus  of  preaching 
by  exchange  in  Boston,  Lowell,  and  other  towns. 


102    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Moreover,  his  efforts  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  best 
thought  of  the  time,  theological  and  general,  were 
effective  and  soon  received  an  impetus  from  unex- 
pected sources. 

Proximity  to  Boston  was  of  no  small  advantage. 
Many  a  ^Monday  was  spent  in  the  Old  Corner  Book- 
store carefully  selecting  the  slender  stock  of  books  a 
meagre  purse  allowed,^  and  dipping  into  many  more 
that  might  be  skimmed,  but  not  purchased.  "Anni- 
versary week"  was  a  great  occasion,  when  the  "^Nlay 
meetings"  of  the  "State  Conference"  and  "^liniste- 
rial  Associations"  were  held,  including  reports 
from  some  of  the  more  important  denominational 
"Boards."  There  were  also  meetings  of  the  then 
newly  formed  Young  Men's  Christian  Association 
and  other  organizations.  Boston  was  a  place  where 
one  might  hear  on  these  occasions  speakers  such  as 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  and  John  B.  Gough.  One 
might  also  come  into  living  contact  with  the  philan- 
thropic work  of  the  denomination  as  actually  carried 
on.  Three  months  after  his  ordination  we  find  Theo- 
dore rejoicing  in  a  visit  from  his  father,  and  keeping 
him  over  "Anniversary  Week."  The  plan  involved  a 
considerable  amount  of  sight-seeing,  and  was  carried 

5  "Tennyson's  Poems"  appears  as  a  purchase  of  June  17,  and  "Spur- 
geon's  and  Huntington's  Sermons"  under  date  September  8,  1856. 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  103 

out  with  great  satisfaction.  Then  there  were  con- 
certs and  lectures,  attended  sometimes  alone,  some- 
time in  company  with  Jenkins  and  other  friends,  with 
whom  there  are  many  exchanges  and  an  active  corre- 
spondence. On  April  30  it  is  a  lecture  of  Edward 
Everett's  in  Charlestown  on  "Washington."  On 
May  31,  immediately  after  the  "Anniversaries"  at 
which  Jenkins  had  been  one  of  the  party,  it  is  a 
meeting  of  the  Abolitionists,  addressed  by  Wendell 
Phillips.  Munger  reports  on  it  to  Jenkins  in  no 
uncertain  terms : 

In  the  afternoon  I  went  into  the  Melodeon  to  hear  the 
Abohtionists — none  of  the  moderate  conservative  order  such 
as  you  and  I,  but  the  out  and  out  disunionists.  Garrison 
had  introduced  a  resolution  endorsing  and  praising  Sumner. 
One  of  their  number  opposed  it,  condemning  Sumner,  and 
making  a  fool  of  himself.  Then  Wendell  Phillips  got  up, 
and  such  a  speech  as  he  made!  He  spoke  an  hour.  Per- 
fectly extemporaneous.  Such  sentences  I  believe  Webster 
did  not,  nor  could  not  utter.  It  was  a  defense  of  Sumner. 
I  wish  you  could  have  heard  it. 

After  this  we  are  not  surprised  to  find  an  entry  in 
the  diary  under  date  Tuesdaj^  November  4,  1856, 
"Voted  for  Fremont  and  Dayton."  The  letter  to 
Noble  of  December  14,  1852,  after  deploring  the 
death  of  Webster,  confesses  to  "the  political  somer- 


104    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

sault"  of  voting  for  the  "Free-soil"  candidates,  Hale 
and  Julian.  He  already  "didn't  like  the  Fugitive 
slave  law,"  and  "abominated  the  Janus-faced  position 
of  the  Whig  party."  To  be  one  of  the  "charter  mem- 
bers" of  the  nascent  "Republican"  party  was  the  next 
political  step.  Events  were  moving  slowly,  fatefully, 
during  these  four  years  from  Februarj^  1856,  toward 
the  tremendous  crisis  of  the  Civil  War.  Hunger  was 
not  insensible  in  his  quiet  Massachusetts  parish  to 
their  ominous  trend.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  his 
comment  on  the  fate  of  John  Brown  and  its  effect  on 
popular  feeling  with  what  we  know  of  it  as  immortal- 
ized in  one  of  the  most  stirring  songs  of  the  Civil 
War.  The  comment  appears  in  a  letter  to  jNIulford — 
then  abroad — under  date  December  13,  1859 : 

I  wonder  if  you  Americans  abroad  have  caught  the  full 
meaning  of  this  John  Brown  movement.  No  single  event, 
probably,  within  the  generation  has  so  deeply  moved  the  peo- 
ple North  and  South.  Never  was  there  such  danger  of  dis- 
union. Virginia  is  frightened  next  to  death.  It  took  5,000 
soldiers  to  hang  John  Brown ;  and  they  say  liis  spirit  walks 
abroad  over  all  the  land.  But  it  was  splendid  to  watch  that 
old  man  day  by  day  as  the  hour  drew  near,  and  see  him 
finally  step  out  of  the  world  in  that  grand  way  in  which 
only  a  martyr  can.  For,  wrong  and  foolish  though  he  was, 
he  had  all  the  moral  and  mental  qualities  of  a  martj-r  and  a 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  105 

hero.  He  did  nothing  for  effect;  but  every  word,  every 
letter,  every  act,  had  its  effect.  A  part  at  the  North  are 
glorifying  him,  and  a  part  are  saving  the  Union.  The  South 
can  scarcely  be  kept  from  cutting  loose  us  poor  northerners 
and  letting  us  drop  into  perdition. 

Visits  to  Boston  and  correspondence  with  college 
friends  were  not  the  only  means  whereby  the  village 
minister's  relations  with  the  larger  world  were  kept 
up  and  extended.  A  friendship  was  begun  very  soon 
after  his  installation  which  was  destined  to  prove  of 
utmost  value.  In  the  diary  for  1856,  during  the 
month  of  February,  we  find  the  entry,  "Went  in  the 
evening  to  Mrs.  Baker's  to  hear  a  parlor  lectin-e  from 
Professor  Gajani  on  the  Siege  of  Rome." 

Mrs.  Eleanor  J.  W.  Baker  was  the  widow  of  Mr. 
Walter  Baker,  whose  business  as  a  manufacturer  of 
chocolate  in  Dorchester  had  brought  him  an  ample 
fortune.  Material  prosperity,  however,  proved  itself 
as  ever  an  insecure  basis  for  happiness.  Not  long 
before  the  coming  of  Theodore  Munger  to  the  Village 
Church,  Mrs.  Baker  found  herself  in  middle  life  alone 
in  her  great  mansion,  a  widow  and  childless.  Within 
a  very  brief  period  she  had  been  bereft  of  her  hus- 
band, the  last  of  her  four  children,  and  a  younger 
brother,  her  last  remaining  near  relative  and  an 
inmate  of  her  home.    The  effect  of  this  affliction  on  a 


106    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

woman  of  strong  will,  but  of  the  devout  type  of  Puri- 
tan piety  which  clearly  sees  in  each  event  of  life  the 
ruling  hand  of  God,  was  such  as  Scripture  sets  before 
us  as  intended  by  "the  chastening  of  the  Lord."  Her 
life  and  the  fortune  she  inherited  were  completely 
devoted  to  good  works — not  passively  admitted,  but 
ardently  and  wisely  engaged  in.  Hunger  himself 
bears  this  witness: 

Never  have  I  known  a  person  do  good  more  wisely.  Never 
have  I  known  a  person  put  so  much  of  self  into  works  of 
ministration.  Every  act  was  charged  with  personal  quality 
and  force.  A  great  part  of  her  service  and  giving  involved 
self-denial  in  the  form  of  time,  strength,  patience  and  remem- 
brance ;  consequently  her  ministrations  were  fruitful  in  moral 
results.  Never  have  I  known  a  person  who  served  others  so 
much  at  first  hand,  doing  things  herself  rather  than  through 
intermediate  agents.  She  gave  away  large  sums  of  money, 
but  if  time,  strength,  thought  and  interest  can  be  compared 
with  money,  they  outnumber  it  manifold.  But  her  strong 
point  lay  in  getting  others  to  help  themselves — putting  them 
in  the  way  of  it,  opening  paths,  providing  means,  tiding  them 
over  hard  places. 

.  .  .  Her  life  as  a  woman  of  the  world  was  almost 
as  broad  as  that  of  her  benevolences.  Indeed  the  two  ran 
along  side  by  side  and  mingled.  For  thirty  years  the  hospi- 
tality of  her  home  was  scarcely  limited  except  by  its  capac- 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  107 

ity.  How  various,  how  brilliant,  from  how  many  regions 
and  stations  of  life,  of  how  many  callings,  of  how  many 
sects,  of  how  many  countries  and  races,  were  her  guests !  No 
pains  were  taken  to  seek  out  visitors.  There  was  no  running 
after  foreigners  or  persons  of  distinction.  True  social  laws 
governed  the  whole  matter.  The  hospitality  was  as  beauti- 
ful as  it  was  abundant — unconventional  yet  high  in  tone, 
and  full  of  keen,  womanly  consideration.  ...  It  turned 
increasingly  to  the  definite  purpose  of  ministering  to  the 
weary  and  worn  and  "broken-down" — teachers,  missionaries, 
overworked  women,  or  those  who  might  need  shelter  for  a 
time. 

.  .  .  Her  friendships  were  with  all  sorts  of  people — with 
the  Gumeys  and  Buxtons  and  the  Aberdeen  family  in  Great 
Britain,  with  rich  and  poor  at  home,  and  literally  with  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  It  seems  to  have  been  the  direc- 
tion taken  by  her  life  under  the  pressure  of  her  sorrows. 
Suffering  brought  with  it  an  intense  sympathy  and  love 
of  humanity,  even  as  our  Lord  became  "perfect  through 
suffering."^ 

Friendship  with  such  a  woman,  increasing  in  inti- 
macy and  mutual  helpfulness,  opened  to  the  young 
minister  of  Dorchester  Lower  Mills  an  almost  limit- 
less vista  of  effective  philanthropic  service,  and  in 
connection  with  it  a  relation  no  less  wide  to  move- 

6  "Funeral  Address,"  by  Rev.  T.  T.  Hunger,  D.D.,  January  17,  1891, 
Boston,  1895. 


108    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ments  of  thought  and  culture.  It  ultimately  led  to 
his  becoming  an  inmate  of  Mrs.  Baker's  home. 
After  JSIunger  had  spent  some  two  years  in  bache- 
lor's quarters  at  one  boarding  place  after  another, 
none  of  them  affording  any  approximation  to  the 
home  surroundings  of  comfort  to  which  he  had  been 
accustomed,  Mrs.  Baker  took  the  course  which  every 
consideration  of  mutual  helpfulness  suggested. 
Munger  was  invited,  until  other  arrangements  should 
be  made,  more  satisfactory  to  himself,  to  be  her  guest. 
The  arrangement  proved  of  such  mutual  advantage 
that  it  became  permanent.  For  the  next  four  years 
Munger  became  an  inmate  of  ^Irs.  Baker's  home, 
and  while  he  thus  received  much,  he  rendered 
unwearying  and  able  service. 

For  the  third  time  our  New  England  minister  was 
to  experience  in  their  choicest  and  richest  form  all 
those  immeasurable  blessings  of  body  and  soul  that 
are  contained  in  the  w^ords  "home"  and  "mother." 
And  like  the  gifts  of  God  they  are  poured  out  without 
limit  and  without  price.  What  he  could  he  gave  in 
return:  to  his  own  mother  many  years  of  tenderest 
affection  and  considerable  material  support;  to  his 
Aunt  Gertrude,  in  the  sadder,  declining  years  of  her 
life,  bereft  of  husband^  and  fortune,  he  showed  that 

7  David  Selden  died  in  New  York  City,  February  23,  1861. 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  109 

the  sympathy  and  friendship  which  had  made  her 
hospitahty  in  New  Haven  an  enlargement  of  Hfe  to 
him  were  not  one-sided.  By  letters  and  such  infre- 
quent visits  as  he  could  make,  until  her  death  at 
Brandon,  Vt.,  in  1875,  he  proved  that  he  could  give 
as  well  as  receive  in  matters  of  the  inward  life.  To 
Mrs.  Baker  he  gave  not  only  intellectual  and  moral 
sympathy,  but  in  the  practical  matters  of  domestic 
business,  wherein  a  woman  peculiarly  feels  the  need 
of  a  man's  assistance,  Munger  found  abundant 
opportunity  to  render  service. 

Since  the  influence  of  good  women  does  not  always 
receive  the  credit  it  deserves  as  a  factor  in  the  lives  of 
men,  we  may  perhaps  be  permitted,  at  this  point,  a 
brief  retrospect  of  these  relations  from  Dr.  Hunger's 
eldest  daughter: 

My  father's  early  life  seems  to  me  to  have  been  singularly 
fortunate  in  the  influences  which  surrounded  it  and  in  the 
social  and  intellectual  training  he  received.  This  is  specially 
noticeable  when  one  thinks  of  the  women  with  whom  he  was 
thrown  during  the  formative  period.  His  mother,  for  whom 
he  felt  a  deep  and  worshipful  love,  was  the  daughter  of  a  Hue 
of  New  England  ministers  and  grew  up  in  a  country  parson- 
age where  hard  work,  frugality  and  refinement  surrounded 
her  from  the  first.  She  was  educated  in  what  was  in  those 
days  the  best  girls'  school  in  New  Haven.     Her  family  did 


110    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

not  at  first  look  with  favor  on  her  marrving  an  obscure 
young  doctor,  or  her  going  with  him  into  the  semi-frontier 
life  of  Central  New  York,  but  his  sterling  quahties  soon 
overcame  that  feeling.  The  thrift  she  had  learned  in  the 
parsonage  stood  her  in  good  stead  in  the  years  that  fol- 
lowed. They  were  years  of  hard  work  and  of  self-denial 
but  the  standards  of  gentle  living  were  never  lowered.  As 
an  example,  the  boys  were  never  allowed  to  go  to  Homer 
village  in  working  clothes,  the  suits  must  be  donned.  There 
were  books  and  newspapers  in  the  home  and  a  father  who 
read  and  thought  much  on  great  subjects,  and  a  mother 
who  was  guided  solely  by  love  and  duty. 

When  the  boy  Theodore  came  to  Yale  at  the  age  of  seven- 
teen, he  became  a  member  of  his  uncle's  family.  His  Aunt 
Gertrude  Richards  Selden  was  a  very  strong  influence  in 
those  college  days.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  well-to-do 
New  York  family,  accustomed  from  the  first  to  social  life. 
For  many  years  her  husband  was  the  English  representative 
of  a  large  cotton  firm  and  in  their  residence  in  England 
they  came  in  contact  with  much  that  was  attractive  in  Eng- 
lish life.  On  their  return  to  America — because  they  wanted 
their  boys  to  grow  up  Americans — they  took  a  large  house 
in  New  Haven  where  they  lived  with  the  stately  simplicity 
of  the  middle  of  the  century.  Here  my  father  was  intro- 
duced to  the  social  world,  but  it  was  by  a  woman  in  whom 
religion  and  thought  dominated  all  else.  She  was  a  brilliant 
talker,  a  keen  thinker  whose  taste  ran  rather  to  theology 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  111 

and  philosophy  than  to  poetry  or  fiction,  a  brave  and  strong 
nature,  as  was  shown  later  when  reverses  came  to  her,  and 
a  woman  who  took  her  full  share  in  trying  to  alleviate  suffer- 
ing wherever  she  found  it.  She  did  her  duty  and  lived  her 
life  well  in  the  station  in  wliich  she  was  placed,  and  she  had 
the  great  gift  of  stimulating  other  minds.  Between  her  and 
my  father  a  very  warm  love  sprang  up.  I  have  often  heard 
him  say — modestly — that  the  intellectual  sympathy  she 
found  in  him  was  a  comfort  and  joy  to  her,  but  he  also  felt 
that  his  obligation  to  her  was  very  great.  The  years  in 
that  home  gave  the  village  boy  a  knowledge  of  social  forms 
and  customs  which  stood  him  in  good  stead  afterwards,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  deeper  influences  which  helped  to  mould 
his  character. 

The  friendship  with  Mrs.  Walter  Baker  was  another  influ- 
ence which  affected  in  many  ways  his  after  life.  His  letters 
to  her  are  full  of  gratitude  and  of  plans  for  her  comfort  and 
pleasure.  In  her  home  he  came  in  touch  with  a  rich  and 
varied  social  life,  and,  I  fancy,  learaed  much  of  the  ease  of 
approach  to  others  which  characterized  his  life  in  later  years. 
And  the  things  which  were  talked  of  in  that  home  were  as 
broad  as  the  world  itself.  There  was,  however,  no  theology. 
That  side  of  his  mind  was  stimulated  in  other  ways. 

The  stimulus  referred  to  was  partly  that  of  friends 
of  both  sexes  with  whom  Hunger  was  brought  in 
contact  in  Mrs.  Baker's  home.  Among  the  older 
women  whom  he  met  here  should  be  mentioned  par- 


112    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ticularly  Miss  Haines,  head  of  what  was  then  the 
leading  girls'  school  in  New  York,  and  Miss  Cum- 
mins, the  novelist  of  "Lamplighter"  fame,  who  dis- 
cussed her  literary  work  with  him.  JNIiss  Haines's 
keen  interest  in  English  theologians,  such  as  Maurice 
and  Robertson  and  Thomas  Arnold,  led  her  to  give 
him  books  by  these  authors,  and  these  in  turn 
became  a  powerful  factor  in  his  development.  Of 
Robertson's  influence  we  shall  have  more  to  say  here- 
after. Maurice  and  Jowett  are  referred  to  in  his 
correspondence  as  a  great  aid  to  liis  studies.  The 
books  he  has  specially  in  use  are  Maurice's  "Unity  of 
the  New  Testament"  and  his  volume  on  "John." 
These  were  presented  by  Miss  Haines.  He  also 
prized  Jowett's  conmientaries  on  Romans  and  Thes- 
salonians.  Jowett's  "Essays"  he  considers  "among 
the  finest  theological  essays  I  have  ever  read." 

A  record  of  the  four  years  of  faithful  ministerial 
service  at  Dorchester  would  offer  but  little  to  break 
the  monoton3\  Their  visible  results  in  the  form  of 
additions  to  church  membership  were  small,  doubtless 
because  of  Munger's  distaste  for  revivalistic  methods 
such  as  keep  ever  in  view  the  credit  balance  of  a 
definite  number  of  "conversions."  His  father's  warn- 
ings to  count  ministerial  success  in  terms  of  fidehty, 
and  not  to   forget  the  invisible   effects  of  earnest 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  113 

preaching  and  faithful  parish  work,  were  almost  pro- 
phetic. Congregations  increased  in  numbers  and 
interest,  particularly  in  the  attendance  of  young  men 
at  the  evening  service.  Better  relations  were  estab- 
lished between  the  rival  sects.  Even  the  barriers 
of  exclusive  orthodoxy  were  broken  down  through 
Hunger's  influence  to  the  extent  of  joining  with  the 
Unitarian  church  in  Thanksgiving  Day  services. 
Still,  do  what  he  would  to  counteract  the  physical 
separation  from  his  flock  occasioned  by  his  residence 
at  some  distance  from  the  village,  and  that  more 
subtle  separation  which  is  produced  by  difference  in 
field  of  thought  and  interest,  and  difference  in  social 
opportunity,  the  minister  could  not  but  become  aware 
that  his  mental  and  social  outlook  was  more  and  more 
divergent  from  that  of  his  flock.  His  world  of  reli- 
gious ideas  was  growing  and  expanding.  Theirs, 
while  by  no  means  stationary,  was  limited  and  slow- 
moving.  He  had  reached  the  young  minister's  inevit- 
able period  of  "theological  unrest." 

From  the  necessities  of  their  isolated  situation,  the 
theologians  of  New  England  have  ever  given  chief 
attention  to  that  division  of  their  subject  which  is 
technically  termed  "soteriology"  or  the  doctrine  of 
salvation.  It  is  concerned  with  the  phenomena  of  the 
religious  consciousness,  a  field  of  study  which  the 


114    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

philosopher  designates  the  "psychology  of  religious 
experience,"  but  which  furnishes  the  basis  for  the 
theologian's  inferences  as  to  the  divine  economy.  The 
Calvinistic  orthodoxy  current  until  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century  was  dominated  by  the  writings  of 
St.  Paul — as  indeed  what  school  of  Christian  theol- 
ogy has  not  been?  It  took  into  consideration  only  one 
type  of  religious  experience,  that  to  which  the  great- 
est contributor  to  New  England  theologj^  of  our  own 
times  has  given  the  name  the  "experience  of  the 
twice-born."*  It  was  the  great  service  of  Bushnell 
to  lead  over  from  this  Edwardean  Calvinism  toward 
a  doctrine  of  salvation  based  on  a  somewhat  broader 
view  of  Christian  experience.  The  revolutionary 
experience  of  the  Apostle  Paul  cannot  properly  be 
taken  as  the  norm,  however  enlightening  as  an  excep- 
tional case.  But  Edwards  and  his  successors  of  the 
New  England  school  so  took  it.  In  concentrating 
their  attention  on  the  ever-unsolved  problem  of 
adjustment  of  finite  wills,  conscious  both  of  free- 
agency  and  of  unrighteousness,  to  the  sovereign  and 
righteous  will  of  God,  they  only  fell  back  the  more 
exclusively  upon  the  experiences  of  St.  Paul.  Bush- 
nell's  revolutionary  book,  "Christian  Nurture,"  was 
published  in  1846.    It  had  grown,  however,  out  of  an 

8  W.  James,  "Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,"  1904, 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  115 

article  on  "Revivals  of  Religion,"  published  ten  years 
earlier  in  The  Christian  Spectator.  The  very  basis  of 
revivalism,  and  in  fact  of  the  whole  Calvinistic  sys- 
tem, was  the  eternally  lost  condition  of  every  free 
agent  who  has  not  consciously  experienced  the  renew- 
ing grace  of  the  Spirit.  Bushnell's  objection  was 
that  of  a  pastor  whose  actual  experience  belied  this 
assumption.  In  thus  becoming  the  champion  of 
nature  against  an  exaggerated  supernaturalism,  he 
attacked  Calvinism  at  its  weakest  point,  its  exclu- 
sion of  the  unregenerate  child.  Calvinism  said,  in 
effect,  to  all  the  little  ones:  "Except  ye  be  con- 
verted and  become  as  those  who  are  grown  up  ye 
effect,  to  all  the  little  ones:  "Except  ye  be  con- 
trast of  this  with  the  sajdng  of  Jesus  was  too  obvious. 
Even  the  more  moderate  type  of  Calvinism  taught  in 
the  New  Haven  school  could  not  satisfy  the  objec- 
tions of  Bushnell.  Taylor  made  free-agency  a  more 
real  thing  than  Edwards,  and  found  a  way  to  vindi- 
cate the  "Sovereignty  of  God"  without  the  horrors  of 
predestination  to  eternal  damnation.  But  as  may  be 
inferred  from  the  extracts  made  from  Hunger's  cor- 
respondence at  a  time  when  most  under  the  influence 
of  this  New  Haven  teaching,  it  was  far  from  repudi- 
ating revivalism.    We  only  recognize  in  the  advice  to 


116    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

his  brother  the  instinctive  apprehension  of  the  abuses 
that  all  too  widely  prevailed. 

No  better  exposition  can  be  found  of  the  effect  of 
Bushnell's  work  in  the  period  from  1836  to  1858,  the 
date  of  "Nature  and  the  Supernatural,"  than  Dr. 
Hunger's  own  in  his  "Life  of  Bushnell."^  His 
career  from  earliest  boyhood  to  the  closing  years  of 
his  first  pastorate  had  been  such  as  to  prepare  his 
mind  in  preeminent  degree  to  receive  with  profound 
appreciation  the  bold  utterances  of  Bushnell,  made 
with  the  insight  and  con^action  of  a  prophet  and  the 
genius  of  a  poet.  They  found  him  and  stirred  him  to 
the  depths.  If  we  take  as  indications  simply  the 
titles  of  two  later  volumes,  "The  Appeal  to  Life"  and 
"Character  through  Inspiration,"  it  will  be  apparent 
how  thoroughly  his  sj^mpathies  were  on  the  side  of 
Bushnell  as  against  the  rigid  salvation  doctrine  of 
Calvinism. 

If  we  may  judge  by  coincidence  of  dates  it  was  not 
so  much  Bushnell's  wider  view  of  the  human  soul  in 
its  relation  to  God  which  contributed  to  Munger's 
"theological  restlessness"  in  1859-1860,  as  "Nature 
and  the  Supernatural,"  wherein  the  champion  of 
reality  against  dogma  extends  his  protest  to  the 
external  world.     Bushnell  had  little  or  no  acquaint- 

9  "Horace  Bushnell,  Preacher  and  Theologian,"  1899,  chapters  V-XIII. 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  117 

ance  with  the  new  movement  of  hterary  and  historical 
criticism  which  was  beginning  to  be  apphed  in  Ger- 
many to  Scripture  narrative,  but  he  had  a  profound 
appreciation  of  Schleiermacher  and  Coleridge.  He 
sympathized  with  that  grand  conception  of  the  Reign 
of  Law  which  owes  so  much  to  the  great  English 
scientists  and  thinkers  of  the  Victorian  period.  The 
line  between  natural  and  supernatural  Bushnell 
found  to  be  as  arbitrary  in  outward  as  in  inward 
experience.  He  made  little  or  no  attempt  to  dis- 
tinguish between  the  eternal  religious  values  of  the 
biblical  record  and  their  more  or  less  legendary  form, 
and  left  to  others  the  application  to  them  of  the 
general  rules  affecting  the  transmission  of  testimony. 
Assuming  the  full  historicity  of  the  record,  he  sought 
(in  his  own  language)  "to  find  a  legitimate  place  for 
the  supernatural  in  the  system  of  God,  and  show  it 
as  a  necessary  part  of  the  divine  system  itself."  In 
other  words  his  "higher  unity"  was  found  by  super- 
imposition  of  the  two  domains.  Every  natural  event 
is  supernatural  in  the  last  analysis,  and  every  super- 
natural event  is  natural,  once  we  perceive  the  law  of 
its  working.  "The  world  was  made  to  include  Chris- 
tianity," so  that  we  have  only  to  raise  sufficiently 
our  point  of  view  to  see  all  apparent  contradictions 
disappear.    There  is  no  contravening  of  law,  but  only 


118    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

the  gearing  in  at  appropriate  times  of  higher  and  still 
higher  systems  of  law. 

Bushnell  was  not  the  only  religious  thinker  whose 
works  at  this  time  took  vigorous  hold  on  the  young 
preacher's  mind.  The  sermons  of  F.  W.  Robertson, 
which  appeared  almost  coincidently  with  Bushnell's 
"Xature  and  the  Supernatural,"  and  which  were 
called  to  his  attention  by  INIiss  Haines,  marked  almost 
an  epoch  in  his  life.  Robertson's  six  principles  of 
teaching^"  were  adopted  by  him  as  the  soundest  and 
wisest  for  a  preacher  to  follow.  At  the  commemora- 
tion of  his  ordination  at  New  Haven  in  1906,  Dr. 
Munger  referred  to  their  effect  upon  his  own  minis- 
terial career  in  the  following  terms : 

I  can  only  speak  of  it  as  providential.  I  had  immediately 
broken  away  from  the  already  yielding  theology,  and  the 
question  was — Wliat  should  I  preach?  This  volume  of 
Robertson  met  the  need  of  vast  numbers  of  the  people;  and 
it  met  mine  with  such  a  fulness  that  I  have  never  since  felt 
a  doubt  over  what  I  should  think,  or  what  I  should  preach. 
If  I  were  asked  today  what  is  the  most  important  thing  in 
theology  for  a  preacher,  young  or  old  to  know,  I  would 
answer:  "The  six  principles  of  Robertson's  thought."  From 
that  day  to  this  preaching  has  been  a  constant  joy.     Not 

10  "Life  of  F.  W.  Robertson,"  vol.  II,  p.  160. 


rmST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  119 

that  Robertson  told  me  what  to  saj,  but  how  to  know  under 
what  principles  of  thought  to  express  myself. 

Those  who  recall  the  "Life  of  Robertson"  will 
remember  that  his  six  principles  of  teaching  were 
these : 

First,  the  establishment  of  positive  truth,  instead  of  the 
negative  destruction  of  error.  Secondly,  that  truth  is  made 
up  of  two  opposite  propositions,  and  not  found  in  a  via 
media  between  the  two.  Thirdly,  that  spiritual  truth  is  dis- 
cerned by  the  spirit,  instead  of  intellectually  in  propositions ; 
and,  therefore,  truth  should  be  taught  suggestively,  not 
dogmatically.  Fourthly,  that  belief  in  the  human  character 
of  Christ's  humanity  must  be  antecedent  to  belief  in  his 
divine  origin.  Fifthly,  that  Christianity,  as  its  teachers 
should,  works  from  the  inward  to  the  outward,  and  not 
vice  versa.    Sixthly,  the  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil. 

Besides  Bushnell  and  Robertson  there  was  one 
more  great  religious  leader  of  the  times  whose  influ- 
ence was  exerted  on  Munger,  both  directly  through 
his  works  and  indirectly  through  contact  with  Mul- 
ford,  whose  friendship  had  now  become  one  of  the 
most  potent  factors  in  his  life.  This  was  Frederick 
Denison  Maurice,  the  leader  of  the  Broad-church 
party  in  the  Church  of  England.  We  can  well  under- 
stand that  Bushnell  and  Robertson  should  have  con- 


120    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

tribiited  to  tliat  "theological  restlessness"  which,  as 
Munger  states,  led  to  his  resignation  from  Dorches- 
ter, happy  and  peaceful  as  all  his  relations  with  the 
parish  had  been.  They  increased  his  natural  lack  of 
"sympath}^  for  the  orthodoxy  of  the  region";  but  we 
need  something  more  to  explain  why  he  "conceived 
the  idea  of  fleeing  from  it  into  the  Episcopal  church." 
The  explanation  is  laid  open  before  us  at  full  length 
in  his  correspondence  with  Carpenter  and  jNIulford, 
the  former  of  whom  at  this  time  was  profoundly 
affected  by  the  mysticism  of  Swedenborg;  the  latter, 
following  certain  inborn  tendencies,  had  definitely 
abandoned  his  training  for  the  Congregational  min- 
istry and  taken  orders  in  the  Episcopal  church.  He 
was  now  in  Europe,  where  Munger,  on  his  earnest 
solicitation,  had  secured  for  him,  through  mutual 
friends,  a  letter  of  introduction  to  JNIaurice.  The 
letter  to  ^lulford,  from  which  we  have  already  quoted 
the  reference  to  the  fate  of  John  Brown,  indicates 
clearly  the  approach  of  Hunger's  mind  to  the  step 
which  the  letter  to  Carpenter  announces  as  already 
decided  upon — resignation  from  the  Dorchester 
parish  in  order  to  be  free  to  take  the  course  JNIulford 
had  already  taken.  The  Broad-church  movement 
was  proving  its  attraction  to  many  leading  minds. 
Others  besides  Mulford  and  Munger  had  been  pro- 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  121 

foundly  affected  by  the  writings  of  Robertson  and 
Maurice  and,  believing  that  current  tendencies  in  the 
Puritan  churches  were  unfavorable  to  continuity  of 
development  and  breadth  of  fellowship,  were  taking 
orders  in  the  Episcopal  ministry.  Munger  was 
keenlj^  alive  to  the  perils  of  denominationalism,  and 
responded  warmly  to  the  plea  of  "continuity  and 
catholicity";  but  he  was  also  aware  of  the  existence 
of  other  tendencies  than  those  of  the  Broad-church- 
men, tendencies  inconsistent  with  these  and  which 
ultimately  prevailed  over  them.  The  purpose  for 
which  he  resigned  his  Dorchester  parish  remained 
unfulfilled,  even  after  several  years  of  unattached 
ministry.  In  his  class  record  for  1891  this  is  ex- 
plained by  saying  merely,  "I  found  I  had  too  much 
Puritan  blood  in  my  veins."  The  folloAving  extract 
from  the  letter  to  Mulford  shows  the  feeling  of  its 
writer  toward  the  type  of  Anglicanism  which  had 
caused  the  expulsion  of  the  Puritans  in  the  first  place, 
and  recently,  in  the  Tractarian  Movement,  had 
imposed  upon  the  doctrine  of  Apostolic  Succession 
a  sense  which  would  make  acceptance  of  Anglican 
orders  ipso  facto  a  repudiation  of  all  others.  Even 
those  of  continental  and  Scotch  divines,  which  great 
fathers  of  Anglicanism  such  as  "the  judicious 
Hooker"  had  freely  recognized,  were  by  the  Trac- 


122    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

tarians  for  the  first  time  pronounced  invalid  and 
worthless.  Like  many  another  minister  of  the  period, 
Munger  waited  to  see  whether  the  Broad-church 
interpretation  of  apostolic  succession  was  to  prevail; 
whether  there  would  be  recognition  of  the  sacred 
office  into  which  he  had  but  latelj^  been  inducted  by- 
imposition  of  holj^  hands  in  a  lofty  spiritual  succes- 
sion, with  solemn  invocation  of  the  Spirit ;  or  whether 
a  tacit  repudiation  of  these  would  be  exacted  as  a  con- 
dition of  receiving  the  "valid"  orders  of  a  dubious 
hierarchical  pedigree. 

The  letter  which  reflects  this  wavering  of  the  men- 
tal balance  in  Munger's  case  was  written  in  Decem- 
ber, 1859,  in  reply  to  one  from  Mulford,  which  had 
spoken  of  his  "continued  approval  of  the  step  taken 
in  becoming  an  Episcopalian."  Munger  congratu- 
lates his  friend  on  having  found  permanent  rest  for 
his  soul,  and  church  relations  in  which  he  "can  labor 
cheerfully  and  earnestly  for  his  Master."  He  fully 
appreciates  the  sense  of  being  "vitally  connected  with 
the  Master's  church."  After  this  expression  of 
sympathy,  Munger  continues: 

You  speak  of  the  reasons  influencing  you ;  of  Episcopacy 
as  meeting  the  demands  of  the  age  and  the  country,  of  its 
being  the  true  organic  expression  of  the  organic  life  which 
makes  up  Christianity,  and  of  its  constructive  power.     My 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  123 

friend,  I  think  constantly  of  these  things.  Every  reflecting 
Christian  man  not  utterly  bound  and  given  over  to  his  sect 
or  creed  must  think  of  them.  Not  always  because  we  see, 
or  think  we  see,  what  we  need  and  lack  in  Episcopacy,  but 
because  we  are  driven  to  think  of  them  by  our  own  exigencies. 
Our  wise  and  prudent  ( .?)  men  shake  their  heads  and  talk 
about  fickleness  and  lack  of  sincerity  when  such  men  as  Dr. 
Bellows  and  Osgood  and  Coolidge  and  Huntington  Hft  their 
voices  and  proclaim  the  need  of  something  different  to  meet 
the  wants  of  the  age.  But  to  me  these  very  men,  because 
they  have  sensitive  and  discerning  minds,  and  just  because 
they  are  free  and  uncommitted,  are  they  who  know  best  how 
to  discern  the  times.  The  loose,  not  the  anchored  boat 
shows  which  way  the  tide  turns.  .    .    . 

I  cannot  deny — I  do  not  wish  to — that  these  voices  declare 
what  many  of  us  feel — the  want  of  a  fuller  and  more  perfect 
expression  of  Christianity  as  an  organized  power  in  the 
world.  Dr.  B.  truly  speaks  of  Congregationahsm  as  "thin 
and  ghostly."  We  cluster  about  great  preachers,  and  call 
great  audiences  strong  churches.  But  when  the  power  of  a 
church  is  measured  by  the  mental  calibre  of  a  preacher,  or 
the  pleasurableness  of  his  tones,  where  and  what  is  the 
church? 

One  cannot  help  asking  what  is  to  become  of  the  immense 
power  of  such  a  man  as  Beecher.  He  is  doing  wondrous 
things  for  individuals  but  scarcely  anything  for  the  lasting 
church  of  Christ.     If  his  energy  and  power  could  be  caught 


124    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

up  by  some  organic  body  and  perpetuated  it  would  seem  to 
me  more  in  accordance  with  the  genius  of  Christianity. 
Another  feature  of  Congregationalism  troubles  me  greatly. 
As  soon  as  the  spiritual  interest  and  life  are  reduced  below 
a  certain  point  they  begin  to  quarrel.  And  the  system  is  a 
mere  lash  with  wliich  they  scourge  each  other.  It  is  so 
loose,  so  little  defined,  so  dependent  on  a  good  and  generous 
spirit,  that  in  the  hands  of  bad  men  it  is  nothing  but  a 
matter  of  perplexity  and  strife.  .  .  .  These  are  things  which 
sadden  and  trouble  me,  and  make  me  ask,  Is  the  system 
radically  defective.'*  That  theologically  we  are  narrow  and 
bigoted  I  cannot  deny,  but  time  may  remedy  that.  And 
that  our  mode  of  worship  is  meagre  and  cold,  and  not  in 
accordance  with  man's  worshiping  necessities  there  is  little 
doubt,  but  time  and  change  may  also  remedy  these.  Whether 
it  will  ever  so  change  as  to  become  truly  a  church — a  church 
above  all  individuals,  and  all  years,  and  all  vicissitudes;  or 
whether  it  must  at  last  take  refuge  under  the  wings  of  the 
Church  of  Apostolic  succession,  is  a  question  too  great  for 
me — yes,  too  great  for  me  to  decide  in  respect  to  myself. 
We  each  believe  in  being  called.  The  voice  vnW  speak  in  its 
own  good  time — perhaps  never;  yet  not  speaking  it  will 
be  a  positive  command  to  remain  where  I  am. 

I  think  I  feel  the  same  drawings  towards  Episcopacy  to 
which  you  yielded.  I  like  the  supreme  importance  attached 
to  the  Church.  I  hke  the  mode  of  worship.  The  govern- 
ment is  well  enough  when  there  is  a  Christian  spirit  in  its 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  125 

administration.  I  like  the  catholicity — when  it  can  be  found, 
which  is  not  always.  I  like  the  spirit  of  the  Broad-Church 
Party,  which  I  conceive  to  be  made  up  of  two  ideas,  viz., 
cathoKcity,  or  comprehensiveness,  united  with  the  idea  of  the 
Church  of  the  Son  of  God.  I  specially  hke  the  attitude  of 
the  Church  towards  a  man  who  is  willing  to  pray,  but  is 
not  willing  to  be  converted  Calvinistically.  And  more  I 
like;  but  some  things  I  do  not  like.  I  fear  the  Athanasian 
Creed  would  stick  in  my  throat.  I  don't  like  Pharisaism,  and 
I  think  Episcopacy  has  more  than  its  share  of  it.  I  don't 
like  Mr.  Cream  Cheese  and  his  one  thousand  (of  the  28,000) 
English  brethren — otherwise  called  Tractarians.  I  don't 
like  the  "High  and  dry"  Churchmen,  nor  the  "Low  and  slow" 
Churchmen;  but  they  make  up  a  large  proportion  of  the 
clergy.  I  think  their  weaknesses  are  peculiarly  weak,  and 
their  faults  serious  and  fundamental.  Yet  there  are  things 
to  be  endured  in  any  denomination.  Perhaps  I  may  see  the 
entire  subject  in  a  different  light. 

So  the  curtain  falls  upon  our  young  minister's 
intellectual  world,  to  lift  again  when  the  decision  to 
resign  his  parish  has  been  reached,  and  he  writes,  in 
July,  1860,  to  Carpenter,  anticipating  pained  surprise 
on  the  part  of  many  of  his  friends,  but  counting  on 
"the  sympathy  and  kindness  of  my  truest  friends,  and 
the  consciousness  that  I  am  doing  right,"  when  the 
step   shall   have   been   taken.      He   still   recognizes 


126    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

"obnoxious  features  in  the  Church  and  in  church- 
people,"  but  episcopacy  increasingly  impresses  him 
by  "its  wisdom  and  fitness  for  its  work." 

As  to  its  being  unwieldy,  or  tending  to  formalism  I  see 
nothing  of  the  kind  in  the  system.  I  am  more  than  ever 
convinced  that  it  is  the  truest  embodiment  and  expression 
of  Christianity,  and  that  it  is,  taking  generations  together, 
the  most  effective  system  to  work  with.  It  is  in  this  hght 
(as  a  working  instrument)  I  have  chiefly  looked  at  it.  I 
have  not  approached  Episcopacy  as  Mulford  approached  it, 
by  strong  sympathy  with  a  great  and  commanding  mind, 
but  I  have  been  driven  to  it  as  a  working  man.  .  .  .  If  I 
felt  strong  enough  to  resist  all  denominational  influences,  I 
do  not  know  but  I  might  remain  where  I  am  and  strive  to 
conduct  a  church  after  my  own  ideas ;  but  /  am  not  strong 
enough,  nor  do  I  beUeve  any  man  is  strong  enough  to  resist 
the  influences  of  his  sect.  Besides,  a  few  years  would  undo 
the  work.  I  may  not  be  able  to  do  much  work  or  great  work, 
but  what  little  I  may  accomplish  I  want  to  last.  I  want  to 
fund  it — to  lay  it  up  in  an  enduring  body,  to  go  toward 
building  up  that  Church  which  has  endured  1,800  years  and 
will  outlast  all  divisions  and  corruptions. 

The  letter  closes  with  an  outline  of  plans,  which 
include  resignation  about  the  middle  of  September. 
Carpenter  is  urged  to  visit  Dorchester  to  paint  INIrs. 
Baker's  portrait,  as  had  been  arranged,  and  to  come 


FIRST  YEARS  IN  THE  MINISTRY  127 

if  possible  by  September  22,  when  "Mr.  Huntington" 
is  to  be  ordained. 

To  the  church  Munger  offers  two  reasons  for  resig- 
nation :  ( 1 )  He  has  encountered  obstacles  to  efficient 
pastoral  work  in  consequence  of  having  no  home  of 
his  own  and  residing  at  a  distance  from  the  parish. 
(2)  Larger  knowledge  of  himself  and  his  work  has 
made  him  feel  the  need  of  an  interval  of  rest  for  pur- 
poses of  study  "and  the  reconsideration  of  important 
questions."  In  a  letter  to  Mulford,  written  the  same 
week,  Munger  gives  full  explanation  of  the  motives 
which  for  more  than  six  months  have  been  gradually 
impelling  him  to  take  the  step.  He  repeats  at  greater 
length  the  appreciation  of  the  values  of  episcopacy 
"as  a  working  system,"  its  "wisdom,"  its  adaptation 
to  the  work  to  be  done  in  "expressing  Christianity." 
Nevertheless  he  remains  uncommitted,  and  deter- 
mined in  spite  of  his  resignation  to  "keep  the  decision 
(of  orders)  yet  in  the  distance,  that  I  may  examine, 
reflect,  and  be  acted  upon  at  greater  length."  The 
resignation  is  in  order  to  be  "as  nearly  as  possible  a 
free  and  untrammeled  man."  For  there  still  remains 
the  unsurmounted  objection:  the  system,  whose  wis- 
dom and  value  so  increasingly  impress  themselves 
upon  him,  is  subject  to  such  incredible  perversion  at 
the  hands  of  men  who  "devote  newspaper  columns  to 


128    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

the  pronunciation  of  A(h)men  and  orientization"  or 
"put  superciliousness  in  place  of  charity,  and  imagine 
stupidity  to  be  repose  and  inaction  peace."  This,  he 
admits,  more  than  anything  else,  causes  him  to 
hesitate. 

While  the  best  persons  I  know  are  Episcopalians,  and  the 
most  efficient  churches  are  Episcopal,  still  I  think  there  was 
never  a  system  so  misunderstood,  so  abused  and  perverted 
by  both  high  and  low  churchmen. 

So  the  interval  of  untrammeled  freedom  was 
obtained.  Mrs.  Baker's  hospitable  mansion  remained 
his  home.  He  had  libertj^  to  consider  the  question  at 
leisure.  He  withdrew  from  his  parish  in  the  fullest 
expectation  of  following  the  example  of  Mulford,  his 
most  admired  friend.  But  when  the  three  additional 
years  of  consideration  were  over,  certain  unforeseen 
factors  had  entered  in.  New  exigencies  led  our 
young  New  Englander  to  the  discovery  of  "too  much 
Puritan  blood  in  his  veins  to  admit  of  this  step."  He 
remained  a  Congregational  minister. 


CHAPTER  V 

WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION 

1861-1869 

The  council  which  formally  dissolved  the  relation 
between  Hunger  and  the  Village  Church  of  Dorches- 
ter held  its  session  on  October  23,  1860.  Inwardly 
and  outwardly  the  transition  which  it  marked  was 
from  peace  and  quiet  to  war  and  confusion.  There 
was  no  lack  of  opportunity  for  preaching.  In 
November  an  invitation  was  received  from  Nan- 
tucket to  supply  for  the  whole  winter.  This  was 
declined;  but  engagements  for  individual  Sundays 
were  filled  in  many  of  the  larger  towns  adjacent  to 
Boston,  and  these  extended  throughout  the  year  1861, 
Munger's  services  as  a  preacher  being  increasingly 
in  demand,  while  his  home  continued  to  be  at  Dor- 
chester with  Mrs.  Walter  Baker.  Such  conditions 
removed  all  worry  over  his  personal  finances,  and  so 
long  as  his  mind  was  not  fully  made  up  as  to  the  field 
in  which  his  ministry  should  be  continued,  they  fur- 
nished the  best  solution  of  the  most  pressing  prob- 


130  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

lems.     But  they  could  not  be  acquiesced  in  as  per- 
manent. 

A  letter  to  Mulford,  dated  January  10, 1862,  shows 
that  the  matter  of  denominational  relations  is  still 
under  consideration.  The  writer  does  not  "give  up 
my  dream  of  returning  to  New  York  and  finding  a 
church  in  its  vicinity  ...  a  quiet  place  to  work  in, 
where  I  can  slowly  train  myself  in  the  direction  of  my 
excellence,  if  I  have  any."  But  conditions  were  unex- 
pectedly favorable  to  deliberation  in  judgment.  The 
literary  excellence  of  Hunger's  sermons  and  his 
power  as  a  preacher  were  bringing  a  superabundance 
of  invitations.  He  had  (when  writing)  preached  six 
Sundaj^s  in  Boston,  and  two  at  the  suburb,  Jamaica 
Plain.  Opportunities  of  the  kind,  unfailing  thus  far, 
were  still  on  the  increase.  Moreover  he  was  not  yet 
sure  of  the  harness  in  which  he  would  work.  The 
Congregational  harness  chafed  by  reason  of  the 
reactionary  Calvinistic  orthodox}^  especially  preva- 
lent in  the  Trinitarian  churches  near  the  seat  of  the 
Unitarian  movement.  Hunger,  however,  had  the 
foresight  to  realize  that  this  was  a  temporary  phase. 
The  baldness  of  the  ritual  and  lack  of  taste  in  its 
worship,  as  sometimes  conducted,  repelled  him.  But 
this,  too,  he  knew  was  curable.  The  real  secret  of  his 
attraction  to  episcopacy  as  interpreted  by  the  Broad- 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  131 

churchmen  was  its  emphasis  upon  continuity  and 
catholicity.  He  wished  to  be  in  closer  relation  to  the 
church  of  all  Christians  in  all  ages.  This,  however, 
was  not  episcopacy  as  universally  understood. 

"Could  I  trust  in  any  organization,"  he  exclaims  to  Mul- 
ford,  "as  you  trust  in  Episcopacy,  I  should  have  great  heart 
for  going  ahead.  .  .  .  More  than  ever  do  I  find  peace  in 
believing  in  Christ,  and  more  than  ever  do  I  believe  in  a 
church  visible,  but  through  some  miserable  obliquity  of 
vision  I  cannot  see  it.  What  I  like  most  in  one  is  offset  by 
some  thing  that  I  as  much  dislike." 

As  regards  Unitarianism,  on  the  other  hand,  such 
drawings  as  the  young  liberal  had  felt  were  rapidly 
losing  their  hold. 

"I  feel  more  than  ever,"  he  writes,  "the  terrible  lack  in 
that  denomination.  There  is  a  great  gulf  between  them 
and  us.  I  feel  too  that  as  religionists  they  are  superficial 
compared  with  Trinitarians.  Their  scheme  of  religion  is 
not  profound,  does  not  reach  to  the  hmits  of  man's  nature ; 
and  if  our  faith  is  not  greater  than  we,  what  is  it  good  for?" 

So  he  still  hesitates.  Other  causes  than  pure  reflec- 
tion and  comparison  were  to  bring  the  decision. 

While  Hunger's  personal  question  of  denomina- 
tional relations  was  still  unsettled,  public  affairs  had 


132    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

reached  a  crisis  that  kindled  every  patriotic  heart  to 
a  flame  of  devotion.  In  1861  the  Civil  War  broke 
out,  and  during  these  years  without  a  settled  pastor- 
ate jNIunger  was  burning  to  enlist,  as  both  his  younger 
brothers,  Hezekiah  and  Edward,  had  done.  But  he 
was  now  his  widowed  mother's  main  reliance.  No 
other  of  her  sons  could  help  her  financially,  and  her 
daughter,  Cynthia,  was  almost  equally  dependent. 
Patriotic  impulse  could  only  give  way  under  such 
circumstances  to  family  duty.  But  JSIunger  could 
and  did  "fire  a  shot  from  the  pulpit  as  often  as  he  had 
opportunity."  So  he  wrote  to  his  mother,  adding: 
"It  seemed  the  only  natural  and  right  thing  to  do." 
The  churches,  which  in  many  cases  had  previously 
been  non-committal,  or  opposed  to  the  discussion  of 
the  volcanic  question  of  slavery  and  its  connected 
problems,  after  the  attack  upon  Simiter,  heard  the 
ringing  message  with  enthusiasm.  During  most  of 
the  year  1862  Hunger  supplied  the  neighboring 
church  at  Jamaica  Plain,  and  early  in  jNIarch,  1863, 
accepted  an  invitation  to  the  pulpit  of  the  Centre 
Church  in  Haverhill  for  a  term  of  six  months.  From 
this  time  on  we  hear  little  of  the  attractions  of  epis- 
copacy. The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  INIrs. 
Baker,  dated  March  1,  1864,  is  hardly  an  exception, 
but  throws  an  interesting  reflected  light : 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  133 

If  a  man  is  disturbed  ecclesiastically  he  may  find  rest  in 
the  Episcopal  church ;  if  theologically  he  will  not ;  nor  will 
he  in  any  church.  A  church  can  not  give  a  faith  to  any  man 
who  thinks.  He  must  find  rest  in  his  own  convictions.  I 
prize  the  Episcopal  church  only  as  furnishing,  in  some 
respects,  a  good  working  standpoint.  It  cannot  set  at  rest 
speculative  doubts. 

The  kind  of  work  to  be  done  called  forth  all  that  is 
best  in  the  democratic  type  of  church  organization. 
Minister  and  people  engaged  together  in  a  service  felt 
to  be  the  cause  of  God,  and  Munger,  at  hand-grips 
with  the  problem  of  welding  into  a  working  whole  a 
congregation  weakened  by  the  defection  of  sup- 
porters no  longer  in  sympathy  with  the  common  aim, 
forgot  his  anxiety  over  the  permanence  of  the  church- 
builder's  work. 

In  spite  of  strong  antislavery  resolutions  entered 
on  its  records  in  1841,  the  church  in  Haverhill  had 
been  known  of  late  as  not  quite  loyal.  Its  wealthier 
members  and  supporters  were  opposed  to  "politics  in 
the  pulpit."  Personal  religion  of  the  revivalistic  tj^pe 
had  been  the  joy  and  success  of  its  retiring  pastor,  a 
man  of  deep  piety,  but  saturated  and  satisfied  with 
the  theology  of  Edwards.  This  had  left  but  little 
room  for  the  social  and  moral  issues  of  the  present 
day,  and  when  the  war  broke  out  it  found  an  element 


134     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

in  the  church  little  prepared  to  "resist  unto  blood"  or 
even  to  "take  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their  goods." 
Silence  and  compromise  had  seemed  to  the  smaller 
and  wealthier  element  the  most  fitting  attributes  of 
pulpit  utterance  in  days  of  crisis,  and  their  pastor, 
already  for  more  than  two  years  in  the  tightening 
grasp  of  fatal  disease,  could  do  little  in  the  way  of 
aggressive  leadership.  Under  such  conditions  the 
morale  of  the  church  had  suffered.  A  few  individuals 
of  the  type  described  had  been  its  principal  financial 
dependence.  The  majority  were  loj^al  people, 
measuring  up  to  the  high  average  standard  of  Xew 
England  culture  and  intelligence,  but  with  very  little 
of  wealth  or  social  rank.  Knowing  what  we  do  of 
the  new  pastor's  sentiments  it  is  no  surprise  to  learn 
that  under  his  preaching  the  two  elements  in  the 
church  drew  rapidly  apart.  "Not  peace  but  a  sword" 
was  the  message.  The  well-to-do  members  made 
their  opposition  felt  at  first  only  indirectly.  Hither- 
to their  influence  had  been  controlling.  It  was 
quietly  turned  now  toward  a  termination,  at  the  end 
of  the  prescribed  term,  of  the  new  relation,  which 
from  their  point  of  view  had  proved  so  unwise  an 
experiment. 

It     proved    unexpectedly    impotent.       The     six 
months'  period  was  extended  to  ten  months.    At  its 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  135 

end  a  call  was  extended  on  the  single  basis  of  loyalty 
to  the  country,  and  accepted  on  that  basis.  "The  rich 
men  and  their  retainers,"  writes  Dr.  Munger,  "with- 
drew from  the  congregation,  leaving  it  poor  in  money 
but  rich  in  patriotism.  I  regard  that  episode  as  the 
best  part  of  my  ministry." 

The  sermons  of  this  war  ministry  remain  to  prove 
that  it  was  no  superficial  rhetoric,  no  demagogic  ora- 
tory that  saved  the  local  church  and  stiffened  patri- 
otic fibre  for  the  salvation  of  the  nation.  That  of 
Fast  Day,  in  April,  1861,  on  the  text,  "And  he  that 
hath  no  sword,  let  him  sell  his  garment  and  buy  one," 
is  almost  prophetic  in  its  warning  of  the  magnitude 
of  the  crisis,  and  its  prevision  that  the  ultimate  salva- 
tion of  the  Union  is  to  come  through  eradication  of 
the  moral  "root  of  bitterness,"  the  curse  of  slavery. 
That  of  Fast  Day,  1863,  three  months  after  the 
Emancipation  Proclamation,  takes  Joseph's  charge 
to  the  children  of  Israel  (Gen.  1.  25,  Ex.  xiii.  19) 
as  a  type  of  faith  in  national  destiny,  and  urges,  on 
deep  and  cogent  grounds,  the  duty  of  loyalty  to  the 
administration  as  agent  of  the  national  will.  At  the 
close  it  rises  to  a  pitch  of  splendid  eloquence  as  it 
predicts  the  future  of  the  outcast  word  "abolitionist." 
It  was  a  term  that  had  made  cowards  of  half  the 
North,   but  was   destined  to   transfiguration;   even 


136    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

such,  says  the  preacher,  as  has  come  to  those  old-time 
terms  of  obloquy,  contempt,  and  reproach,  "Puritan" 
and  "Nazarene." 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  manful  fight,  and  while 
its  issues  in  the  local  church  were  still  undecided,  that 
love  came  to  shed  a  new  and  softer  radiance  over  the 
scene,  and  to  demand  in  its  own  name,  and  for  the 
sake  of  the  home  to  be,  the  assumption  of  new  respon- 
sibilities. 

Among  the  most  honored  citizens  of  Haverhill,  a 
pillar  of  its  Baptist  church,  for  many  years  a 
member  of  the  State  Legislature  and  latterly  repre- 
sentative of  the  district  in  the  Federal  Congress,  a 
trustee  of  Brown  University,  of  Newton  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  and  of  many  other  institutions, 
educational  and  philanthropic,  was  James  Henry 
Duncan,  a  graduate  of  Harvard,  a  friend  of  A^Hiit- 
tier,  an  associate  at  the  INIassachusettes  Bar  of  lawyers 
such  as  Mason,  Webster,  Pickering,  and  Story.  Mr. 
Duncan,  who  as  one  looked  up  to  in  all  matters  per- 
taining to  the  higher  welfare  of  the  town  made  it  his 
duty  to  seek  out  newcomers  of  like  interest,  called  at 
an  early  date  on  the  new  minister  of  the  Centre 
Church.  He  found  a  congenial  spirit.  INIutual 
friendship  sprang  up  and  the  younger  man  soon 
learned  not  only  to  value  the  older  for  liis  wide  knowl- 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  137 

edge  of  men,  his  wise  judgment,  high  principle,  and 
liberal  spirit,  but  to  find  delight  also  in  the  social 
relations  of  the  Duncan  home,  with  its  large  family 
of  adult  sons  and  daughters.  It  is  in  December, 
1863,  that  he  writes  to  his  friend.  Carpenter,  to 
announce  his  engagement  to  one  of  the  younger  of 
the  five  daughters,  Elizabeth  Kinsman,  a  girl  of 
twenty,  thirteen  years  younger  than  himself,  but,  as 
experience  soon  proved,  a  helpmeet  well  worthy  of 
his  choice.  The  marriage,  which  took  place  on  Octo- 
ber 12  of  the  following  year,  marked  a  new  era  in 
Munger's  life.  The  homes  which  thus  far  had  been 
so  hospitably  opened  to  him  had  furnished  every  com- 
fort, together  with  unusual  social  opportunity.  He 
and  his  young  bride  must  now  create  their  own,  with 
little  more  than  the  traditions  of  the  past — building 
material  like  that  of  the  "house  not  made  with 
hands." 

Marriage  to  a  young  minister  on  a  salary  of  $1,200, 
with  the  support  of  a  widowed  mother  and  sister 
largely  dependent  upon  him,  is  a  serious  responsi- 
bility. It  entailed  a  frugality  of  living  very  different 
from  anything  to  which  the  bride  had  been  accus- 
tomed; but  her  cheerful  spirit  and  prudent  economy 
proved  equal  to  the  task.  The  little  income  was 
stretched  to  get  the  utmost  from  it,  and  stretched 


138    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

again  and  again  as  children  came  to  add  their  portion 
of  new  cares,  and  their  double  portion  of  blessing. 
Two  daughters,  Rosanna  INIay  and  Eleanor  Duncan, 
were  born  in  Haverhill. 

Like  many  another  young  and  inexperienced  girl, 
the  minister's  bride  took  up  and  solved  the  complex 
problem  of  building  a  home  of  comfort  and  refine- 
ment. Though  the  salary  was  small,  the  parsonage 
on  Kent  Street,  Haverhill,  entertained  many  guests, 
introducing  them  to  a  home  of  grace  and  beauty  filled 
with  the  atmosphere  of  Christian  culture  and  refine- 
ment. Its  mistress  proved  herself  also  a  conscien- 
tious minister's  wife,  and  in  spite  of  constant  frailness 
of  health  accomplished  many  things  in  all  lines  of 
church  activity.  Throughout  her  married  life  her 
husband's  work  was  given  invariably  the  first  con- 
sideration. Whatever  could  make  it  more  successful, 
or  improve  the  conditions  for  its  accomplishment,  was 
the  paramount  object  in  view.  Her  conscientious- 
ness and  habit  of  tireless  industry  were  a  reenforce- 
ment  and  stimulus  to  his  own,  and  in  her  loving  com- 
panionship came  new  and  more  abundant  experience 
of  how  man's  life  can  be  enriched  by  woman's  love. 

This  enrichment  was  not  at  the  cost  of  preexisting 
ties.  The  old-time  friendships  continued  and  were 
strengthened.      Jenkins    was    occupied    during   this 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  139 

period  with  service  in  the  region  of  Boston,  but  in 
1864  was  installed  in  Hartford.  Mulford,  since  the 
outbreak  of  the  war,  had  been  in  charge  of  a  small 
parish  in  Orange,  N.  J.  His  friend  writes  of  his 
work  during  this  period : 

The  Episcopal  pulpit  did  not  often  speak  plainly  on 
the  (political)  questions  involved,  but  Sunday  after  Sunday 
Mulford  filled  the  little  church  with  dissertations  on  the 
Nation,  and  lofty  rebukes  of  the  rebellion  that  would  have 
graced  the  Senate  chamber.  I  fear  the  shots  flew  wide  over 
the  wondering  heads  of  the  people. 

These  sermons  were  the  germs  of  the  great  book, 
"The  Nation,"  which  ten  years  later  was  to  bring  to 
its  author  world-wide  tributes  of  honor  and  respect. 
Munger's  judgment  of  the  book  is  that  "if  there  are 
intelligent  critics  and  students  of  history  in  the 
coming  centuries  they  will  not  fail  to  acknowledge 
that  the  profoundest  conception  of  the  nature  of  the 
Nation,  and  the  first  unfolding  of  it  as  a  moral 
organism  in  this  country  was  the  work  of  Mulford  as 
he  watched  the  struggles  of  the  country  in  its  great 
conflict."  Munger's  own  sermons  during  this  period 
are  a  revelation  of  the  closeness  of  his  intercourse 
with  his  friend,  and  the  revelation  is  confirmed  by  the 
correspondence. 


140    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

The  intercourse  was  promoted  by  the  intimacy  of 
both  with  Taft  and  Carpenter,  whose  residence  in 
New  York  City  afforded  material  hnks.  Hunger's 
faithfulness  in  attendance  at  the  meetings  of  the 
American  Board  was  rewarded  at  the  Springfield 
meeting  in  1862  by  meeting  his  old  friend  and  class- 
mate, Henry  H.  Jessup,  now  about  to  be  joined  in 
his  work  at  the  college  in  Beirut  by  his  brother,  Sam- 
uel. William  B.  Clarke  was  another  college  friend 
with  whom  relations  now  became  closer,  as  he  passed 
from  the  station  of  assistant  pastor  to  Dr.  Hawes 
of  Hartford  into  that  of  successor  to  Prof.  George 
P.  Fisher  as  pastor  of  the  church  in  Yale  College.  A 
letter  of  Hunger's  to  his  mother,  dated  October  17, 
1863,  refers  to  his  own  preaching  in  the  College 
Chapel  and  attendance  in  company  with  President 
Woolsey,  Prof.  Timothy  Dwight,  and  others  at  the 
installation  service  of  his  friend.  This  same  year 
brought  the  beginning  of  personal  acquaintance  with 
one  whose  influence  had  deeply  affected  Hunger  long 
years  before  through  publications.  A  few  weeks 
after  the  letter  just  quoted  we  find  him  writing  again 
to  his  mother,  reporting  his  preaching  in  Hartford, 
and  describing  with  undisguised  pleasure  the  pres- 
ence of  Dr.  Bushnell  and  his  invitation  to  call.  Need- 
less to  say  the  invitation  was  accepted  with  alacrity. 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  141 

"The  Doctor  was  very  entertaining,  more  so  than 
anyone  I  ever  conversed  with.  Indeed  I  never  before 
had  the  opportunity  of  conversing  with  so  great  a 
man."  Some  counsel  also,  both  kindly  and  judicious, 
had  been  offered  and  gratefully  accepted.  In  a  letter 
of  thanks  for  the  counsel,  Munger  enclosed  a  photo- 
graph of  F.  W.  Robertson,  and  received  in  reply  a 
letter  from  which  we  take  the  following  extract: 

I  wanted,  on  hearing  you  here  so  many  times,  to  have 
some  private  conversation  with  you.  I  was  much  attracted 
by  your  sermons — more  probably  than  any  other  of  your 
hearers — which  made  me  none  the  less  regret  a  certain  defect 
in  your  power  of  impression — not  equal  to  the  merit  of  your 
sermons.  Are  you  not  too  nearly  a  Kterary  gentleman  in 
your  habit — not  enough  an  apostle?  I  believe  most  sin- 
cerely in  a  preaching  inspiration,  and  then,  of  course,  that 
as  every  preacher  wants  it,  he  should  be  in  a  condition  to 
have  it.  As  you  settle  into  your  new  field  may  you  be  guided 
more  and  more  consciously  to  yourself  into  the  true  centre 
and  secret  of  endowment.  Preaching  is  the  grandest  of  all 
works  when  the  apostolic  ring  and  movement  are  in  it. 

The  closest  of  all  the  ties  of  this  period  were  with 
the  home  in  Central  New  York.  His  widowed  mother 
and  sister  rely  on  him  for  direction  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  home  and  its  meagre  resources.    To  him 


142    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

come  the  letters  from  the  two  sons  in  the  army  and 
those  also  from  the  frontiersman  at  IVIerton,  Wis. 
From  him  go  regular  weekly  letters  to  his  mother, 
along  with  remittances  for  the  payment  of  the  rent 
and  frequent  gifts  of  money  and  useful  articles. 
From  him  are  despatched  the  letters  and  boxes  to  the 
soldiers;  and  he  is  the  dependence  of  each  and  all  in 
times  of  special  need.  On  August  30,  1862,  Edward, 
the  first  of  the  two  to  enlist,  was  shot  in  the  neck  in 
a  fight  with  Texas  rangers  near  Helena,  Ark.  Half 
his  company  were  killed  or  wounded  in  the  engage- 
ment. Theodore  writes  him  in  Overton  Hospital, 
Memphis,  and  applies  to  Generals  Grant  and  Sher- 
man for  a  furlough.  Edward,  after  recovery  in 
hospital  at  Memphis,  secured  his  discharge,  but 
reenlisted  in  September,  1863,  joining  his  brother, 
Hezekiah,  who  had  enlisted  early  in  June.  The  two 
continued  in  service  at  Port  Hudson,  La.,  till  near 
the  end  of  the  war. 

The  relations  with  Mrs.  Baker  also,  and  her  large 
circle  of  friends,  remained  almost  as  close  as  ever, 
in  spite  of  distance  and  interruptions  on  both  sides. 
For  Mrs.  Baker  had  devoted  herself  of  late  with 
characteristic  energy  to  the  needs  of  wounded  sol- 
diers. Munger  continued  nevertheless  her  frequent 
visitor,  helpful  caretaker,  and  constant  correspon- 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  143 

dent.  The  hospitable  mansion  in  Dorchester  stands 
open  to  him  and  his  wife,  a  quasi-parental  home  even 
after  the  establishment  of  his  own  in  Haverhill. 

From  our  knowledge  of  the  habits  formed  in  the 
Dorchester  pastorate  it  would  be  an  easy  inference 
that  the  parish  in  Haverhill  was  by  no  means  neg- 
lected. The  very  first  undertaking  after  the  installa- 
tion, on  January  6,  1864,  was  a  systematic  visitation 
of  the  one  hundred  and  sixty  homes  represented  in 
the  church,  not  as  a  mere  matter  of  developing  the 
acquaintances  already  begun,  but  with  full  apprecia- 
tion that  the  permanent  fruits  of  a  really  useful  min- 
istry must  be  found  chiefly  in  the  homes.  JNIunger, 
as  we  know,  was  deeply  concerned  for  permanent 
results,  and  the  letters  of  appreciation  and  gratitude 
from  many  parishioners  attest  the  abiding  influence 
not  of  his  preaching  only,  but  even  more  of  his  per- 
sonal and  private  intercourse  with  his  people.  The 
letters  were  doubtless  preserved  as  a  precious  witness 
that  his  labors  were  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord,  and  their 
tribute  is  eloquent.  Congregations  continued  to 
increase  and  the  church  prospered,  though  the  mem- 
bership roll,  as  before  at  Dorchester,  exhibited  none 
of  those  sudden  inflations  which  mark  the  tidal  waves 
of  revival,  whether  revival  of  the  type  which  justly 
bears  the  name,  or  that  which  is  wont  to  be  worked 


144    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

up  in  more  or  less  factitious  imitation  of  true  move- 
ments of  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Of  the  latter  type  rather  than  the  former  was  the 

revivalistic  work  of  the  Rev.   JNIr.   H ,  ^Wdely 

advertised  as  the  "child  evangelist."  This  "trade 
name,"  if  we  maj^  call  it  so,  was  not  meant  to  indicate 
the  humble  spirit  of  the  revivalist  himself,  as  thus 
qualified  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  only 
the  special  objects  of  his  emotional  appeals.     Mr. 

H made  a  specialty  of  working  on  the  feelings 

of  children.  One  is  not  surprised  to  read  a  frank 
expression  of  opinion  regarding  the  bringing  of  this 
man  to  Haverhill  in  Hunger's  letters  to  his  mother. 
In  February,  1864,  he  writes  as  follows : 

You  will  see  in  The  Observer  of  this  week  an  account  of 
the  revival  in  Haverhill.  It  was  written  by  Mr.  S.  of  the 
North  Church.  There  have  been  a  great  many  meetings  and 
a  great  deal  of  excitement,  but  discerning  people  fail  to  see 
the  revival.  Not  much  good  and  a  great  deal  of  evil  has 
been  done.  Mr.  S.  got  H.  here  and  is  determined  to  carry  it 
through.  I  have  attended  to  my  own  church  and  let  the 
whole  thing  go  by,  and  I  think  I  have  done  wisely.  The 
newspaper  accounts  of  revivals  I  shall  hereafter  reo^ard  as 
not  very  trustworthy. 

On  April  2  he  makes  further  reference  to  the  same 
unwholesome  movement: 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  145 

The  revival  was  a  sham.  The  newspaper  accounts  were 
utterly  false.  There  are  no  fruits  worth  speaking  of,  and 
it  has  left  the  ground  harder  for  us  ministers  to  work  upon. 
Don't  believe  anything  you  read  about  H.  He  gets  it  all 
written  just  as  he  sees  it.  The  sensible  people  here  all  stood 
outside  of  his  operations. 

Experience  of  advertising  methods  and  the  work 
of  the  press  agent  have  cooperated,  one  can  see,  with  a 
long-standing,  perhaps  an  inborn,  distrust  of  the 
revivalistic  conception  of  religious  experience,  to 
produce  in  Munger's  mind  a  stronger  reaction  than 
ever  before.  Bushnell's  "Christian  Nurture"  doubt- 
less had  something  to  do  with  it,  and  Bushnell's 
influence  was  destined  to  make  itself  more  and  more 
strongly  felt.  Disagreement  could  not  fail  to  come. 
As  yet,  however,  Munger's  church  was  in  full  sym- 
pathy with  its  pastor.  "The  congregations  increase 
and  are  full.  Some  people  have  gone  off,  but  more 
have  come  in"  is  his  report  in  this  same  letter. 

Faithful  parish  work  and  persistent,  systematic 
effort  toward  self-development  in  the  composition 
and  delivery  of  sermons  make  an  uneventful  record. 
The  straining  years  of  the  war,  full  of  bereavement 
and  hardship  for  those  at  home,  as  of  peril  and 
suffering  for  those  at  the  front,  drew  to  their 
tragic  close  in  the  death  of  the  martyr-president. 


146    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

On  Friday  night,  April  14,  1865,  Plunger  heard 
the  news  of  the  assassination,  but  could  not  believe 
it.  Confirmation  came  on  Saturday  and  the  day 
was  devoted  to  the  preparation  of  a  sermon  on  it, 
the  significant  subject  chosen  being  "The  Omnipo- 
tence of  God."  If  there  had  been  division 
hitherto  in  the  North,  advocates  of  disunion,  "copper- 
heads," and  lukewarmness  of  loyalty,  the  assassina- 
tion had  a  dramatic  effect  not  contemplated  by  its 
theatrical  perpetrator.  It  brought  into  sudden, 
vivid  relief  the  real  significance  of  the  great  four- 
years'  crime  against  the  commonwealth.  If  the  spirit 
of  old  John  Brown  went  marching  on  with  the  armies 
that  wrought  out  emancipation  in  fire  and  blood,  the 
spirit  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  man  who  of  all 
throughout  our  history  best  deserves  the  name  of 
patriot,  was  set  free  by  the  assassin's  bullet  in  order 
that  it  might  prepare  the  way  for  reconstruction. 
Lincoln's  patriotism  distilled  a  sublime  loyalty  to 
the  principles  of  free  and  democratic  government, 
mingled  with  a  magnanimity  of  "charity  for  all"  over 
the  tumult  and  chaos  of  the  years  which  followed. 
"Universal  sorrow  and  gloom"  are  the  words  by 
which  Munger  describes  to  his  mother  the  condition 
of  the  public  mind  "here  and  everywhere."  Strained 
as  had  been  the  resources  of  all,  the  few  hours  since 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  147 

the  news  had  been  received  sufficed  for  appropriate 
tokens  of  the  church's  grief.  The  pastor's  sermon, 
finished  at  midnight,  was  preached  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing. 

"The  church,"  he  writes,  "was  very  heavily  draped  in 
black,  unrelieved  by  white.  I  should  think  there  must  have 
been  nearly  a  thousand  yards  (of  material)  used.  ...  I 
never  saw  such  a  sight  as  the  congregation  presented  soon 
after  I  began — all,  literally,  were  weeping." 

So  the  war  ministry  ended.  A  new  ministry,  a 
ministry  of  reconstruction,  was  to  begin.  On  its 
secular  side,  in  matters  that  concern  the  state, 
Munger's  part,  though  not  small,  was  to  be  mainly 
indirect.  Mulford,  the  friend  who  of  all  others  had 
closest  intimacy  with  his  intellectual  life,  was  already 
brooding  over  the  great  book  that  five  j^ears  later 
gave  voice  to  the  spirit  of  Lincoln,  and  in  the  prepa- 
ration of  this  book,  "The  Nation,"  Hunger  planned 
and  toiled  with  his  friend,  hoping  and  believing 
greater  things  from  it  than  the  author  himself.  But 
Munger's  own  work  was  to  be  in  "The  Repubhc  of 
God."  He  was  keenly  conscious  of  a  work  of  recon- 
struction no  less  deeply  needed  by  the  Church  than 
by  the  State,  and  thus  far  he  had  found  no  more  than 
"the  harness  in  which  he  must  work."     Episcopacy 


148    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

had  drawn  him  by  its  continuity  and  its  catholicity 
(in  the  Broad-churchman's  interpretation)  ;  Uni- 
tarianism  had  its  attractions  in  its  fearless  intellectual 
freedom  and  its  progressive  democracy  of  govern- 
ment. Both  of  these  were  now  left  behind.  The 
strenuous  call  of  needed  practical  service  had  given 
him  his  destined  place.  His  work  must  be  in  the 
church  of  his  fathers,  proving  it  to  be  the  rightful 
heir  of  an  apostolic  continuitj^  and  catholicity,  a  true 
Freedom  of  Faith.  But  this  inheritance  would  need 
a  loyal,  vigilant  vindication  against  the  misinterpre- 
tation of  narrowing  tradition  and  short-sighted 
sectarianism. 

JNIeantime,  it  is  the  first  requisite  of  stewards  "that 
a  man  be  found  faithful."  The  minister's  own  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  development  must  not  encroach 
upon  the  service  he  is  pledged  to  render  to  the  church, 
however  small,  whose  needs  demand  his  pastoral  care. 
Regrets  for  the  inevitable  sacrifice,  regrets  that  still 
are  not  repinings,  echo  through  a  letter  to  the  friend 
of  his  larger  life,  written  after  long  interruption  of 
their  correspondence,  under  date  November  7,  1865: 

My  dear  Mulford:. 

I  think  it  better  to  put  a  bold  face  upon  the  matter,  and 
to  proceed  as  though  I  had  not  two  unanswered  letters  from 
you  in  my  drawer.   .    .    .   It  is  almost  months  since  I  have 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  149 

written  any  letters  save  those  required  by  business  or  family 
ties.  But  we  have  known  each  other  too  long  and  well  to 
feel  that  any  break  of  correspondence  means  a  break  of 
sympathy.  .  .  .  And  what,  outside  of  home-life,  is  like  the 
vital  sympathy  of  minds  that  are  in  the  light?  Not  that 
they  should  believe  alike  (that  were  bondage),  but  that  they 
have  open  eyes  and  hearing  ears  for  the  truth. 

Men  are  everything  or  nothing  to  me  as  friends,  as  they 
range  under  this  distinction.  You  will  not  infer  from  this 
that  I  am  off  the  track,  or  getting  wild.  I  am  preaching 
more  earnestly,  and  I  hope  with  purer  intentions,  than  ever, 
and  am  more  careful  not  to  say  anything  that  shall  hinder 
men  from  receiving  the  simple  gospel  as  it  is  in  Christ  Jesus ; 
but  I  do  cherish  and  cling  to  men  who  give  a  deeper  significa- 
tion to  the  gospel  than  that  arbitrary  one  that  prevails. 
And  what  a  work  Bushnell  is  doing  in  this  respect!  How 
finely  he  shows  that  the  gospel  has  a  meaning  consonant  with 
the  deepest  facts  of  our  being.  I  was  much  interested  in 
your  correspondence  with  Dr.  B.  His  book,  if  it  has  his  old 
power,  will  bring  on  a  great  conflict.  The  close  of  the  war 
leaves  our  thinkers  at  liberty  for  speculative  work,  and  I 
think  our  restive  New  England  mind  is  eager  for  it. 

The  letter  continues  with  a  discussion  of  current 
movements  of  thought,  praise  of  Matthew  Arnold's 
literary  criticism  and  commendation  of  "urbanity  and 
charity"  in  literature,  report  of  a  lecture  by  Henry 
James  on  Carlyle,  discussion  of  his  essay  in  the  Octo- 


150    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ber  number  of  TJie  North  American  on  "Faith  and 
Science"  as  showing  a  truth  "that  will  prove  a  barrier 
to  the  materialism  of  science  that  is  pouring  over  us 
as  a  flood."  The  men  of  science,  as  he  thinks,  have 
so  far  had  it  "all  their  own  way,  with  nothing  to  op- 
pose except  the  dictum  of  ecclesiastics  and  the  horror 
of  all  good  people."^  James's  book  "Substance  and 
Shadow,"  he  has  seen  "carpingly  reviewed  by  some 
Philistine  of  a  critic  in  a  weekly  Religious  Paper — 
those  profound  defenders  of  the  faith  in  which  the 
times  abound." 

Similar  discussions  of  current  literature  form  the 
staple  of  the  letters  to  Mulford,  and  the  writer  is 
manifestly  not  wholly  outside  the  currents  of  living 
thought ;  but  he  concludes  regretfully : 

Do   not   think  because   I   write    about   books   that   I    am 

1  Hunger's  attitude  toward  the  prevailing  tendencies  of  thought  pro- 
duced by  the  tlien  recent  advances  in  physical  and  biological  science 
may  be  judged  by  a  letter  to  Miss  Haines,  dated  March  27,  1861,  in 
which,  after  praising  McCosh's  volume  on  "Moral  Government,"  he 
continues:  "I  especially  like  its  way  of  looking  at  theological  subjects 
from  the  scientific  standpoint.  This  is  not  the  day  when  positive  dog- 
matic declarations  of  truth  will  be  received.  The  peculiar  forms  of 
infidelity  now  prevalent  must  be  and  can  be  met  on  tlieir  own  ground. 
We  must  not  give  up  Geology  and  Astronomy  and  Chemistry  and  Psy- 
chology to  them  and  fall  back  upon  Calvin  and  Augustine,  but  must 
prove  that  even  in  these  fields  which  they  claim  to  be  their  own,  Chris- 
tianity is  true.  The  best  possible  book  that  can  be  made  for  this  age  is 
one  that  is  at  the  same  time  thoroughly  Christian  and  thoroughly 
scientific." 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  151 

reading  at  all.  I  am  harder  at  work  writing  sermons  than 
ever,  which  with  a  large  parish  consumes  all  my  time.  I  have 
not  even  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  I  improve  as  a 
preacher,  except  that  I  possibly  gain  in  directness,  and 
ability  to  minister  to  such  minds  as  I  have  before  me.^ 

Home  life  takes  up  much  of  my  thought  and  time.  In  it 
I  find  rest  and  comfort. 

On  February  3  of  the  following  year  we  get  a 
further  glimpse  at  his  activity  as  a  pastor  in  a  letter 
to  his  mother: 

I  am  visiting  the  parish  very  vigorously.  During  this 
week  I  have  made  about  twenty  visits.  I  mean  to  get 
through  by  March  if  possible.  I  have  assumed  charge  of 
my  Sunday  school.  I  know  that  it  will  add  to  my  burdens, 
but  I  wish  to  make  some  changes  and  see  if  I  cannot  infuse 
some  life  into  it.  Will  you  ask  C[ynthia]  to  ask  Mr. 
Nichols  if  he  has  any  good  schedules  of  lessons  for  concerts. 

2  Hunger  was  not  conscious  during  this  Haverhill  pastorate  of  any 
other  gain  in  sermon  writing  than  the  above.  Nevertheless,  the  pains 
taken  in  this  matter,  according  to  the  habit  formed  as  his  "wise  father" 
had  counseled,  were  not  thrown  away.  A  letter  from  Miss  M.  E.  Dodge 
(Gail  Hamilton) — no  mean  critic — shows  their  impression  as  literary 
products.  Miss  Dodge  writes  in  July,  1868,  acknowledging  the  loan  of 
two  sermons  read  by  herself  and  sister.  "We  read  aloud  with  pauses  and 
repetitions,  with  additions  and  comments,  I  will  not  say  improvements, 
but  certainly  enlargements.  .  .  .  With  all  that  you  said  we  saw,  behind, 
the  mass  that  you  would  have  said.  For  comfort  your  first  sermon  is 
good,  for  culture  the  second  is  needed,  and  we  want  both."  Hunger's 
method  was  the  systematic  accumulation  of  "notes"  on  a  given  topic 
enclosed  in  envelopes  appropriately  docketed  and  placed  on  file  until 
wanted. 


152    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

I  hate  to  take  the  time  to  prepare  any  at  present.  I  should 
like  to  have  a  good  talk  with  liim  about  Sunday-school 
concerts. 

A  long-desired  opportunity  of  enlargement  of 
mind  and  refreshment  of  spirit  came  unexpectedly 
in  the  summer  of  1867,  when  the  wear  and  tear  of 
three  5"ears  of  devoted  pastoral  work  were  rewarded 
by  three  months  of  rest  combined  with  recreation  and 
travel.  The  months  of  July,  August,  and  September 
were  spent  in  Europe  traveling  as  the  guest  of  his 
friend  and  former  parishioner,  Henry  L.  Pierce  of 
Milton,  Mass.,  the  manager  of  the  Walter  Baker  & 
Co.  Chocolate  Works.  Mr.  Pierce's  trip  was  made 
for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the  French  World's  Ex- 
position, where  he  expected  to  profit  by  the  displays 
made  by  the  French  and  Dutch  chocolate  makers. 
The  three  months  of  sight-seeing  on  the  Continent 
were  incidental. 

For  ten  years  past  a  visit  to  Europe  had  been 
Munger's  hope  and  dream.  His  letters  to  Mulford 
from  Dorchester  had  dwelt  on  the  delightful  impossi- 
bility of  sharing  his  friend's  enjoyment  of  historic 
scenes,  majestic  architecture  and  romantic  scenery, 
the  art  of  world-famous  galleries,  and  living  inter- 
course with  famous  men  of  letters.  ]\Iuch  of  the 
dream  was  now  fulfilled,  though  the  tour  was  too 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  153 

rapid  to  allow  much  of  that  better  part  which  is 
denied  to  those  who  are  "cumbered  with  much  serv- 
ing." To  Mulford  he  reports  the  experience  and  its 
effects  with  a  succinctness  we  cannot  hope  to  rival : 

I  am  not  a  subject  of  seasickness,  however  great  the 
provocation,  but  the  sea  lost  a  great  deal  of  its  fascination 
for  me.  In  fact  I  have  less  respect  for  it  than  before.  It 
is  the  unfinished,  or  undeveloped  part  of  creation — without 
variety  and  hence  limited  in  its  suggestion.  I  agree  with  a 
character  of  Dr.  McLeod's  in  "The  Old  Lieutenant."  .  .  . 
"It  is  a  nasty,  angry,  jumbled  pairt  of  creation."  .  .  . 
From  Liverpool  to  Chester,  and  then  three  delightful  days 
in  the  Lake  country — Fumess  Abbey,  Coniston,  Ambleside, 
Grasmere,  and  Keswick.  I  en j  oyed  nothing  more  while  gone. 
I  have  the  idea  that  the  Lake  country  is  the  key  to  much  of 
Wordsworth's  poetry. 

Melrose,  Edinboro',  Rosslyn,  Sterling  were  all  of  Scot- 
land I  saw.  And  York  was  the  only  place  we  stopped  at  on 
the  way  to  London.  Ten  days  there,  and  we  crossed  the 
Channel  by  way  of  Newhaven  and  Dieppe,  to  pass  through 
Rouen.  Another  eight  days  in  Paris  and  we  kept  on  to 
Lyons,  where  we  spent  Sunday ;  then  to  Nice  by  rail,  where 
we  took  a  carriage  and  went  over  the  Comiche  road,  a  most 
satisfactory  experience.  It  is  the  Alps  and  the  sea  in  one. 
From  Genoa  to  Leghorn  by  water,  and  thence  by  the  new 
route  to  Rome  along  the  Western  Coast.  ...  I  don't  believe 
in  St.  Peter's  as  a  church.    Do  you  ?    Two  days  in  Florence ; 


154     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

three  in  Venice,  one  in  Milan,  the  excursions  of  Como, 
Lugano,  and  Maggiore,  was  all  the  time  I  could  give  to 
Italy.  We  crossed  by  the  Simplon,  went  down  the  Rhone 
valley  to  Geneva ;  were  prevented  from  going  to  Chamounix, 
and  so  went  without  to  Berne,  thence  to  Interlaken,  and  so 
on,  after  the  excursion  of  the  Wengern  Alp,  to  Lucerne, 
Rigi,  bay  of  Uri,  etc.,  and  out  by  way  of  Basle.  Strassburg, 
Baden-Baden,  Heidelberg,  followed  in  order.  At  Bingen 
we  took  steamer  and  went  down  the  Rhine  to  Coblentz, 
whence,  after  the  usual  excursions,  we  kept  on  to  Cologne, 
Aix  la  Chapelle  and  Brussels.  At  Cologne  Mr.  Pierce  left 
me  for  Paris  and  I  kept  on  through  the  Belgian  cities,  cross- 
ing at  Ostend  to  Dover,  visiting  Canterbury  on  the  way  to 
London.  In  England  I  went  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  Brighton, 
Oxford,  and  the  Warwickshire  region.  You  see  what  an 
immense  journey  it  was  for  the  time,  as  we  left  here  June 
18th  and  returned  September  28th.  I  was  busy  every 
moment,  reading  and  writing  nights,  and  on  my  feet  days. 
I  took  the  acknowledged  lines — the  best  course  I  fancy  for 
the  first  time.  I  had  no  time  to  look  closely,  so  that  I 
returned  with  impressions  rather  than  convictions.  I  am 
very  anxious  to  go  again,  and  carefully. 

The  journey  had  been  hurried  indeed  to  the  point 
of  exhaustion,  but  the  impressions  were  not  super- 
ficial. Previous  preparation  had  been  too  thorough 
for  that.  They  served  as  a  basis  for  lectures  sub- 
sequently given  with  great  acceptance,  and  ten  years 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  155 

later  they  were  still  fresh.  An  article  contributed  by 
Hunger  to  The  Earnest  Worker,  a  religious  monthly 
of  Cleveland,  Ohio,  in  May,  1878,  describes  "A  Sun- 
day in  the  Isle  of  Wight,"  spent  just  before  his 
return.    It  begins : 

Three  months  of  incessant  travel  upon  the  Continent  had 
left  me  exhausted  in  body,  and  indifferent  to  farther  sight- 
seeing. I  had  gazed  upon  piptures  and  churches  and  monu- 
ments until  I  had  lost  a  sense  of  their  reality,  and  they 
passed  dream-like  before  my  wearied  eyes. 

Then  follows  the  description  of  a  visit  to  the  coun- 
try church  of  Ventnor  on  the  south  shore,  of  the  sweet 
rural  scenes  and  simple-hearted  country  folk.  The 
impression  was  a  permanent  one,  deepened  by  a  long 
familiarity  with  English  poetry.  But  the  service  in 
the  little  church  was  a  disillusionment.  In  all  the 
worshipful  surroundings  there  was  offered  but  little 
to  nourish  the  soul. 

The  rector  was  not  the  rector  of  Addison  or  Goldsmith  or 
George  Herbert.  Young,  handsome,  vigorous,  with  a  cul- 
tured, scholarly,  face,  he  looked  as  though  he  might  have 
commanded  an  audience  of  thousands  in  London,  but  he 
hardly  commanded  the  congregation  of  little  St.  L. 

In  the  evening  the  traveler  visited  the  Independent 
Chapel,  new,  crude,  tasteless.  Here  all  externals 
seemed  to  offend  the  worshipful  spirit.    It  was  "such 


156    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

a  church  as  an  inferior  architect  might  build  in  a 
Western  town,  unmindful  equally  of  cost  or  debt. 

Nevertheless  he  heard  there  "an  excellent  sermon 
in  company  with  a  large  and  wide-awake  congrega- 
tion." His  conclusion  is  one  that  shows  the  "Puritan 
blood"  still  dominant. 

I  had  seen  many  churches  and  shared  in  their  worship — 
Chester,  York,  St.  Roch,  Strassburg,  St.  Peter's.  These  are 
fine  in  their  way,  packed  full  from  crypt  to  vaulted  roof 
with  sanctity,  magnificent  in  the  sublimity  of  the  ser^^ce 
they  daily  render ;  but  for  helping  my  poor  soul  heavenward, 
give  me  a  simple  service  in  a  simple  church,  clear  utterance 
of  plain  truths,  the  prayer  of  contrite  hearts,  the  hymn  of 
devout  spirits — worship  free  from  the  ancient  formalism  of 
Gerizim  and  the  glory  of  Jerusalem,  but  rendered  "in  spirit 
and  in  truth." 

The  traveler  returned  somewhat  jaded  physically, 
but  with  stores  of  spiritual  refreshment  for  the  active 
labors  of  his  parish.  A  brief  visit  with  his  wife  and 
little  daughter  to  his  mother's  home  in  Homer  inter- 
vened. The  winter  of  1867-1868  witnessed  a  revival 
in  Homer  for  whose  wholesomeness  INIunger  felt  as 
much  solicitude  as  for  that  in  his  own  city  of  Haver- 
hill.   To  his  brother  Hezekiah  he  writes  in  January: 

I  am  glad  if  there  is  any  real  awakening  of  religious  feel- 
ing in  Homer.     It  was  greatly  needed.     It  has  seemed  to 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  157 

me  that  religion  had  almost  ceased  to  be  a  power  and  had 
degenerated  into  a  mere  form.  I  have  felt  that  the  young 
men  belonging  to  the  church  in  Homer  were  in  a  terrible 
position,  utterly  inactive  and  uninterested.  ...  I  hope 
they  may  be  brought  to  see  the  unutterably  wrong  position 
they  have  filled,  and  may  find  their  way  back  to  Christ  and 
to  a  holy  life.  This  last  is  the  great  thing — a  pure,  high- 
toned,  conscientious,  Christ-ruled  life,  keeping  the  body  and 
its  appetites  under  and  thus  rising  into  the  conscious  power 
of  God.  I  believe  these  things  as  I  never  did  before.  There 
is  but  one  thing  in  this  world  or  the  next  that  I  fear,  and 
that  is  sin.  I  believe  a  man  must  get  the  full  mastery  of 
himself — the  upper  hand  of  every  sin  and  self-indulgence, 
or  he  can  never  be  happy — never  have  peace  in  this  world  or 
the  next. 

In  the  same  spirit  preaching  and  pastoral  visita- 
tion were  resumed  in  Haverhill.  And  his  efforts 
were  not  restricted  to  the  church  and  Sunday-school. 
As  a  member  of  three  important  committees,  he  took 
an  active  part  in  the  formation  of  the  local  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  one  of  the  earlier 
branches  of  that  now  cosmopolitan  institution. 

The  joy  in  the  birth  of  a  second  daughter  early  in 
1868  was  overcast  by  a  great  bereavement.  On  the 
night  preceding  Fast  Day,  April  2,  a  telegram  sum- 
moned Theodore  to  the  bedside  of  his  mother.     He 


158    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

waited  only  long  enough  to  fulfil  his  duty  to  the 
church  on  the  next  morning,  then  hastened  to  Homer, 
remaining  by  her  side  until  the  final  parting,  soon 
after  noon  of  April  7. 

It  was  the  breaking  up  of  the  home  centre  that 
hitherto  had  occupied  so  large  a  place  in  INIunger's 
life.  His  sister  Cynthia,  after  her  long  widowhood, 
had  recently  married  a  Mr.  Rogers  of  Alden,  Iowa. 
Of  the  sons  only  Hezekiah  remained  in  Homer.  All 
were  now  married  and  settled,  but  the  new  homes 
were  widely  separated.  Selden,  having  sold  his  farm 
in  Merton,  Wis.,  had  settled  in  business  in  Chicago. 
Edward  was  conducting  a  tannery,  ultimately  be- 
coming established  in  Montrose,  Pa.  All  met  now 
at  the  scene  of  common  bereavement;  but  the  old 
home  bond  was  broken. 

Our  New  England  minister  returned  to  his  home 
feeling  that  a  chapter  in  his  life  was  closed.  He  had 
ministered  in  carnal  things  as  well  as  things  spiritual, 
but  the  spiritual  things  of  his  mother  had  more  than 
repaid  him,  even  during  the  later  days  of  her  age  and 
infirmity.  Henceforth  this  treasure  was  laid  up  in 
heaven. 

But  the  ministry  in  Haverhill  was  drawing  rapidly 
near  an  inevitable  end.  The  thoughtful  element  of 
the  congregation  were  fully  in  sympathy  with  their 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  159 

progressive  minister,  the  plain  people  of  the  parish 
were  devotedly  attached  to  him.  But  an  element 
remained  uncomfortabty  conscious  that  this  minister 
was  not  of  the  conventional  type.  His  attitude 
toward  revivals  had  shown  marked  leanings  toward 
the  point  of  view  of  Bushnell.  There  were  also  fol- 
lowers of  the  theology  of  Edwards,  and  still  others 
who,  knowing  nothing  of  Edwards'  neo-Calvinistic 
theologj^  were  wedded  to  the  revivalistic  methods 
which  had  developed  from  his  doctrines  of  depravity 
and  redemption.  These  felt  vaguely  suspicious  that 
all  was  not  well  with  the  orthodoxy  of  a  minister  so 
critical  of  revivalism,  so  incautiously  open  to  new 
thought.  Bushnell  himself  was  certainly  not  con- 
scious of  speaking  as  a  prophet  of  evolution.  Yet 
the  new  forms  of  philosophic  thought  born  of  the 
evolution  theory  were  in  the  atmosphere,  and  "Chris- 
tian Nurture"  was  but  a  forerunner  of  the  coming 
conflict.  Its  conception  of  the  soul  as  innately  kin 
to  God  was  irreconcilable  with  the  catastrophic  psy- 
chology of  the  revivalists  and  formed  a  sign  of  the 
times.  Since  the  appearance  of  that  epoch-making 
book  in  1847,  Bushnell  had  brought  out  successively 
"God  in  Christ"  in  1849,  "Christ  in  Theology"  in 
1851,  "Sermons  for  the  New  Life"  and  "Nature  and 
the  Supernatural"  in  1858,  "Christ  and  His  Salva- 


160    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

tion"  in  1864,  "The  Vicarious  Sacrifice"  in  1866,  and 
finally  "The  Moral  Uses  of  Dark  Things"  in  1868. 
The  year  last  named  was  further  signalized  by  an 
article  from  Bushnell  in  Putnam's  Magazine  on 
"Science  and  Religion."  Manifestly  Bushnell's 
native  antipathy  to  the  catastrophic  theory  of  divine 
action — partial  salvage  bj^  the  Creator  out  of  a 
wrecked  universe — was  not  confined  to  the  sphere 
of  personalit}^,  the  fate  of  the  human  soul.  "Xature 
and  the  Supernatural"  was  a  systematic  attempt  to 
obliterate  the  dividing  line.  In  it  Bushnell  turned 
his  back  on  Intervention  and  opened  wide  the  door 
toward  Immanence — obviously  a  "dangerous"  man. 
And  Bushnell  was  not  only  Munger's  hero  in  the  lists 
of  current  theological  debate,  but  of  late  even  his 
personal  friend.  And  Munger  himself,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  not  unconscious  of  the  need  of  reconstruc- 
tion in  the  churches.  In  December,  1865,  we  find 
him  writing  to  Mulf ord : 

There  is  no  man  to  defend  liberal  ideas  in  theology  who 
believes  in  Christ.  At  least  I  know  of  no  one.  Unitarianism 
is  on  one  side.  Infidelity  on  the  other.  Between,  there  is  no 
defender  of  Hberal  theology,  of  modem  Christian  thought. 
In  one  denomination  at  least  (Congregationalism)  one  must 
blow  the  trumpet  of  New  England  theology — sorry  note — or 
keep  silent.    Who,  except  Unitarians  and  Episcopalians,  has 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  161 

criticised  the  Council?  .  .  .  And  who  is  there,  except  Uni- 
tarians, to  say  a  good  word  for  the  Life  of  Robertson  ?  They 
exult  over  his  liberalism  (as  they  term  it),  but  give  us 
nothing  of  his  theology,  scarcely  anything  of  his  animus. 

And  who  is  there  to  say  anything  in  defense  of  Dr.  Bush- 
nell's  new  book  ("Christ  and  His  Salvation")?  Unitarians 
will  appropriate  the  negative  side,  but  who  will  show,  or  say, 
that  Dr.  B.  is  orthodox  and  may  have  place  in  the  true 
church?  I  already  anticipate  and  hear  the  howl  that  will 
soon  set  in.  .    .    . 

Whenever  I  think  of  this  I  think  of  you.  And  if  The 
Independent  will  let  you  write  upon  these  themes  pray  do, 
and  perhaps  the  silent  thoughts  of  many  minds  may  at  last 
find  utterance.  I  can  think  of  nothing  so  much  needed  as 
an  organ  for  the  expression  of  advanced,  liberal,  orthodox, 
Christian  thought,  something  that  has  cut  loose  from  the 
moorings  of  Plymouth  Rock,  and  has  at  least  as  much 
respect  for  the  nineteenth  century  as  for  the  fifteenth  or 
the  second.     I  hope  to  live  to  see  it. 

You  hit  the  Council  a  hard  yet  just  blow  in  the  middle 
of  the  second  column  [of  Mulford's  recent  article  in  The 
Independent^.  Talk  about  imposing  no  yoke  which  Christ 
has  not  imposed — it  is  an  absurdity.  The  very  best  Chris- 
tians in  my  congregation  cannot  come  into  the  church 
because  of  a  lumbering  creed  that  only  here  and  there  by 
chance  touches  Christianity. 

This  is  a  very,  very  weak  spot  in  our  church.     We  don't 


162  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

dare  to  throw  overboard  these  old  dogmatic  creeds,  yet 
every  Hve  man  feels  a  secret  dissatisfaction  with  them.  They 
are  not  preaclied  except  in  a  feeble  under-breath.  They  are 
kept  in  the  background.  New  churches  cut  them  down  as 
much  as  possible;  but  no  one  dares  to  advise  giving  them  up 
and  substituting  a  confession  of  Christ,  as  you  suggest,  or 
a  confession  of  the  real  Christian  verities.  /  would  look  for 
a  creed  in  St.  Matthew  v.  and  the  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

The  reference  to  "the  Council"  and  the  use  of 
"dogmatic  creeds  instead  of  confessions  of  Christ" 
has  to  do  with  the  organization  of  the  first  so-called 
National  Council  of  Congregationalists  at  Boston, 
and  the  adoption  at  Plymouth,  June  23,  1865,  of  the 
"Declaration  of  Belief"  at  Burial  Hill.  In  the  chap- 
ter which  follows  we  shall  have  more  to  say  concern- 
ing the  long  effort  of  American  Congregationalists 
in  the  period  immediately  succeeding  the  Civil  War 
to  secure  the  official  adoption  of  an  authoritative 
creed.  The  Boston  Council  marks  its  beginning.  It 
marks  also  the  vital  distinction  between  a  denomina- 
tional and  a  catholic  creed.  To  be  really  "catholic" 
a  creed  must  have  universal  assent.  It  must  contain 
nothing  unacceptable  to  any  genuine  Christian  of 
any  generation,  name,  or  clime.  In  ancient  phrase  it 
must  contain  that  which  has  been  believed  "always, 
everywhere,  by  all"  {quod  semper ^  quod  uhique,  quod 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  163 

ab  omnibus),  and  nothing  else.  Tacitly,  if  not 
explicitly,  it  will  involve  the  "damnatory  clause"  in 
genuine  Athanasian  form:  "Which  faith  except 
every  one  do  keep  whole  and  undefiled,  without  doubt 
he  shall  perish  everlastingly."  The  difficulty  in 
modern  times  of  framing  a  catholic  creed  hardly 
needs  explanation. 

The  alternative  is  a  creed  representing  the  views  of 
some  portion  less  than  the  whole  of  the  Christian 
Church.  The  personal  creed  of  the  individual  is  a 
vital  feature  of  Congregationalism,  and  is  normally 
the  central  and  distinctive  factor  in  its  councils  of 
ordination  or  installation.  The  ancient  forms  of 
admission  to  membership  "on  confession  of  faith" 
likewise  assume  that  the  candidate,  so  far  as  compe- 
tent, will  declare  his  personal  religious  conviction, 
using  set  forms  only  so  far  as  required  by  inexperi- 
ence. In  such  "creeds"  the  "damnatory  clause"  is  of 
course  wanting.  The  statement  is  presented  "as  a 
testimony,"  not  to  be  judged  apart  from  the  life  of 
the  individual  who  offers  it. 

The  same  is  true  of  the  "declarations"  of  larger 
groups.  Any  organization  of  Christians,  a  sodality, 
a  school,  a  church,  may  express,  if  it  desires,  its 
"creed."  But  there  must  be  no  "damnatory  clause," 
expressed  or  implied.   The  "creed"  must  be  used  "as 


164    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

a  testimony"  only.  If  imposed  "as  a  test"  a  wrong 
is  done  to  catholicity.  Christ  is  "divided"  when 
under  any  title  employing  His  Xame  any  who  are 
His  are  excluded.  The  evil  of  the  times  since  the 
Unitarian  schism  had  been  the  formulation  of  local 
church  creeds  for  use,  not  as  testimonies,  but  as  tests. 
The  Boston  Council,  as  described  by  Professor 
Walker  in  his  "Creeds  and  Platforms  of  Congrega- 
tionalism," had  grown  out  of  "a  stronger  desire  for 
some  outward  manifestation  of  Congregational 
brotherhood"  for  "the  new  epoch  in  national  history." 
At  its  opening  session  in  Boston,  June  14,  1865,  pre- 
sided over  by  Connecticut's  noble  "war  governor," 
William  A.  Buckingham,  a  determined  effort  was 
made  to  secure  the  adoption  of  a  creed  committing 
Congregationalists  in  express  terms  to  a  "Calvin- 
istic"  form  of  belief.  However,  the  committee 
appointed  to  report  on  the  expediency  of  a  declara- 
tion had  the  good  sense  to  declare  that 

They  could  not  regard  it  as  their  function  to  prepare  a 
Confession  of  Faith  to  be  imposed  by  act  of  this,  or  of  any 
other  body,  upon  the  churches  of  the  Congregational  order. 
"It  was  the  glory  of  our  fathers,  that  they  heartily  professed 
the  only  rule  of  their  religion,  from  the  very  first,  to  be  the 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  165 

holy  Scriptures";^  and  particular  churches  have  always 
exercised  their  liberty  in  "confessions  drawn  up  in  their  own 
forms."* 

The  committee  deemed  it  inexpedient  "that  the 
Council  should  disturb  tliis  'variety  in  unity' — as 
Cotton  Mather  happily  describes  it,"  and  therefore 
attempted  only  "to  characterize  in  a  comprehensive 
way  the  doctrines  held  in  common  by  our  churches." 
In  harmony  with  the  emphatic  Declaration  of  the 
Congregational  Churches  of  England  and  Wales, 
which  "disallow  the  utility  of  Creeds  and  Articles  of 
Religion  as  a  bond  of  union,  and  protest  against  sub- 
scription to  any  human  formularies  as  a  term  of 
communion,"  in  harmony  with  the  ancient  New  Eng- 
land symbols,  they  reiterated  their  "jealousy  of  sub- 
scription to  Creeds  and  Articles,  and  their  dis- 
approval of  the  imposition  of  any  human  standard."® 

The  outcome  was  the  adoption,  at  an  adjourned 
session  in  Plymouth,  on  that  Burial  Hill  where  the 
Pilgrims  had  secretly  laid  away  their  dead  in  fear  lest 
the  savages  should  be  provoked  to  attack  by  knowl- 
edge of  their  decimated  numbers,  of  a  creed  which  is 
not  denominational,  but  explicitly  and  emphatically 
aims  to  be  catholic. 

3  Quoted  from  the  preface  of  the  "Saybrook  Platform." 

4  Quoted  from  Mather's  "Magnalia." 

5  Walker,  ibid.,  p.  548. 


166    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

The  threatened  polemic  turned  out  an  eirenicon. 
Reconstruction  took  the  road  of  cathohcity  without 
losing  sight  of  its  goal  of  continuity.  Xevertheless, 
the  denominational  spirit  remained.  All  the  protests 
and  preambles  from  the  Cambridge  Platform  to  the 
Burial  Hill  Declaration  could  not  prevent  some  of 
the  churches  from  using  their  creeds  as  tests  rather 
than  testimonies,  nor  prevent  some  Congregational- 
ists  from  longing  after  the  denominational  solidarity 
of  the  Presbyterians.  It  was  this  which  gave  ground 
for  Hunger's  complaint  against  the  Council  and  the 
creeds  which  "live  men  refuse  to  preach"  as  a  testi- 
mony because  of  secret  dissatisfaction,  j^et  which 
were  continually  being  used  as  a  test,  even  to  the 
exclusion  of  "the  best  Christians  in  the  congrega- 
tion," to  say  nothing  of  the  attempts  to  drive  from 
the  ministry  (of  the  "denomination")  men  like  Bush- 
nell  and  his  followers. 

Hunger's  strong  sympathy  with  Bushnell  appears 
again  in  February,  1868,  when  he  writes  discussing 
his  theory  of  the  Atonement,  and  adds: 

I  am  quite  sure  I  know  what  helps  me,  and  there  I  rest. 
I  have  been  looking  into  Maurice's  work  on  St.  John  of  late. 
I  have  compared  him  at  length  with  ThoKick,  Olshausen, 
Alford  and  others,  but  I  get  more  satisfaction  and  light 
from  Maurice  than  from  all  the  others  together.     He  is  the 


WAR  AND  RECONSTRUCTION  167 

only  author  I  know  who  understands  the  transitions  in  John, 
and  can  throw  a  bridge  of  reasoning  across  the  great  gulfs 
between  the  passages.  And  how  great  John's  Gospel  is  as 
interpreted  by  him! 

Ministers  of  small  churches  who,  in  addition  to 
family  cares,  parish  duties,  and  frequent  demands  on 
their  time  and  strength  for  municipal,  social,  and  edu- 
cational affairs,  can  find  time  to  read,  to  study,  and  to 
think  to  this  extent,  are  quite  naturally  objects  of 
suspicion  to  a  certain  element,  of  which  the  church  in 
Haverhill  had  its  quota.  The  opposition  fought 
under  cover.  None  came  out  openly  to  attack  the 
pastor's  orthodoxy ;  but  the  dissatisfied  element  made 
its  apprehensions  known,  and  found  only  too  much 
evidence  that  the  pastor  of  the  Centre  Church  was 
one  that  "meditated  new  things."  Hunger  did  not 
w^ait  to  fight.  He  could  see  no  advantage  in  it  for 
the  church.  For  himself  he  now  knew  there  was 
plenty  of  work  waiting  in  other  fields.  The  story  is 
briefly  told  in  the  report  to  his  classmates  in  the 
record  of  the  class  of  '51.  "During  1869  some  dis- 
satisfaction with  my  theology  began  to  be  felt,  due  to 
my  undisguised  sympathy  with  Dr.  Bushnell.  I 
thought  it  best  for  the  church  that  I  should  run 
rather  than  fight,  and  so  resigned  and  took  a  tem- 
porary engagement  in  Providence." 


168    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

The  council  which  dissolved  the  relation  between 
the  Haverhill  church  and  its  pastor  was  held  Decem- 
ber 14,  1869.  IMunger's  temporary  engagement  at 
the  High  Street  Church  in  Providence  began  almost 
immediately  thereafter,  extending  from  December 
24,  1869,  to  April  1,  1871 ;  but  the  loyal  members  of 
his  flock  at  Haverhill  did  not  suffer  their  pastor  to 
leave  without  a  substantial  testimony  of  their  love 
and  gratitude.  Shortly  after  his  resignation  a  com- 
mittee, representing  all  save  the  handful  of  dissen- 
tients, waited  upon  him  to  express  their  sense  of  loss, 
and  to  leave  in  his  hands  a  gift  of  $200  as  a  memorial 
of  his  faithful  service. 


CHAPTER  VI 

WIDENING  INFLUENCE 

1870-1874 

Mimger's  settlement  in  the  High  Street  Church, 
Providence,  was  understood  on  both  sides  to  be  ad 
interim  onlj^  A  plan  of  amalgamation  with  the 
Richmond  Street  Church  had  been  agreed  upon,  and 
Munger's  services  were  engaged  only  to  cover  the 
interval  until  its  consummation.  This  arrangement 
did  not  release  him  from  parish  duties.  On  the  con- 
trary, his  diary  gives  continued  proof  of  faithful 
service  in  this  field,  the  benefits  of  which  would  be 
reaped  by  the  Union  Church  which  was  to  grow  out 
of  the  combination.  But  the  years  devoted  to  the 
systematic  preparation  of  sermons  having  value  both 
for  substance  and  literary  form  were  now  bearing 
fruit.  The  accumulated  stock  was  not  outgrown.  Old 
sermons  could  be  preached  with  the  ardor  and  zest 
of  new,  because  they  still  reflected  the  preacher's 
own  deepest  and  truest  thought. 

After  the  first  distracting  cares  of  securing  new 
quarters  and  removing  household  goods  from  Haver- 


170    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

hill,  there  was  some  lightening  also  of  family  duties. 
His  brothers  and  sister  were  no  longer  dependent  on 
his  constant  aid  and  advice.  Some  leisure  was  thus 
left  for  literary  work,  and  this  was  immediately  occu- 
pied, though  not  in  directions  of  the  writer's  choosing. 

The  death  of  Hunger's  father-in-law,  Hon.  J.  H. 
Duncan  of  Haverhill,  in  1869,  brought  with  it  the 
task  of  preparing  a  suitable  memorial  volume,  and 
this  was  discharged  as  a  labor  of  love,  in  a  biography 
of  eighty  pages,  covering  the  story  of  Mr.  Duncan's 
upright  and  honorable  life.  The  preparation  of  this 
manuscript  for  the  press  occupied  the  early  months 
of  1870. 

Simultaneously  with  the  preparation  of  his  o^vn 
manuscript,  JSIunger  was  acting  the  part  of  an  inter- 
ested and  trusted  friend  in  the  completion  of  a  far 
greater  literary  enterprise,  one  of  whose  greatness 
he  himself  had  long  been  fulh^  convinced.  JNIulford's 
college-mates  had  expected  of  him  a  brilliant  literary 
career,  for  in  his  college  days  he  had  given  extraor- 
dinary proofs  of  literary  genius.  The  complete 
inactivity  of  his  gifted  pen  for  long  years  after  liis 
graduation  was  to  most  an  inexplicable  enigma. 
Only  the  few  who,  like  INIunger,  held  the  key  to  his 
deepest  life  knew  the  secret  of  this  strange  silence, 
^lulford  had  reacted  with  all  his  great  soul  against 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  171 

the  easy  celebrity  of  mere  fine  writing.  He  knew  his 
powers  and  was  determined  to  use  them;  but  not 
until  the  greatest  and  worthiest  occasion  came.  Of 
these  college  expectations  regarding  Mulford,  Hun- 
ger himself  later  testified : 

He  was  immediately  recognized  as  an  able  and  at  last, 
as  the  leading  man  in  his  class.  ...  A  brilliant  career  as  a 
writer  was  anticipated  for  him.  But  such  forecasts  were 
not  to  be  fulfilled.  Mulford  himself  thwarted  them  by  resolv- 
ing not  to  yield  to  that  tendency.  In  later  years  he  told  me 
that  as  a  lad  in  Homer  when  there  was  a  craze  over  Ik 
Marvel's  "Reveries,"  in  wliich  he  shared,  he  resolved  not  to 
write  such  books  but  only  great  books. 

The  long-awaited  occasion  came  in  the  days  that 
followed  the  crisis  of  the  Civil  War.  Mulford, 
as  we  know,  had  been  an  ardent  patriot,  sending  forth 
the  trumpet  blasts  of  his  eloquence  from  his  church 
in  South  Orange,  N.  J.  His  insight  into  the  course 
of  national  affairs  was  deeper  than  the  current  super- 
ficial optimism  which  expected  that  with  the  suppres- 
sion of  the  Rebellion  the  future  of  the  Republic 
would  be  open  and  free  from  serious  danger  or 
obstacle.  Having  championed  the  Union  as  of  too 
divine  an  origin  to  succumb  either  to  force  of  arms 
or  to  the  compromises  of  politicians,  Mulford  real- 
ized that  the  great  task  was  still  to  come.     He  saw 


172    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

both  the  opportunity  and  the  difficulties  of  recon- 
struction; and  to  this  problem  he  dedicated  all  the 
powers  of  his  nature. 

The  correspondence  during  the  closing  years  of 
Hunger's  pastorate  in  Haverhill  affords  intimations 
of  the  work  that  was  occupying  JNIulford's  mind. 
Increasing  deafness  had  compelled  his  retirement 
from  the  New  Jersey  parish,  in  November,  1864. 
He  had  then  betaken  himself  to  life  on  a  farm  near 
Friendsville,  Pa.,  some  ten  miles  from  Montrose, 
his  native  place.  In  this  rural  solitude  of  Friends- 
ville, Mulford's  great  book,  "The  Nation,"  was 
wrought  out,  its  conceptions  being  submitted  to 
Munger  first  in  oral  discussion  and  later  in  manu- 
script. The  beginning  of  the  year  1870  saw  the  copy 
complete  in  the  hands  of  the  printer,  though  not  with- 
out repeated  struggles;  for  the  author  had  insisted 
over  and  over  on  complete  revision  of  the  entire  work. 
In  January  the  final  proofs  were  at  last  in  hand ;  but 
for  the  correction  of  these  Mulford  desired  further 
advice  and  cooperation,  and  wrote  for  leave  to  come 
and  spend  in  Providence  such  time  as  might  be 
needful  for  the  purpose. 

Needless  to  say  the  request  was  gladly  acceded  to, 
and  from  January  4  to  February  22  the  two  friends 
lived  and  wrought  together.     At  last,  on  the  latter 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  173 

date,  Munger  enters  in  his  diary  "Read  proof  with 
Mulford  all  the  morning  and  finished  his  book."  Of 
the  book  itself  we  need  not  speak.  Munger's  con- 
fidence in  it  and  loyal  faith  in  his  friend  were  found 
not  to  be  misplaced.  Those  in  highest  authority  and 
best  qualified  to  judge  gave  a  verdict  which  posterity 
has  not  reversed.  In  the  language  of  a  contemporary 
it  secured  to  its  author  "a  recognized  place  among 
the  profound  and  original  minds  of  his  generation." 
A  tribute  peculiarly  dear  to  him  was  the  honorary 
degree  of  LL.D.,  conferred  in  1872  by  his  alma 
mater;  but  chief  of  all  rewards  was  the  consciousness 
that  he  had  given  enduring  expression  to  a  sublime 
ideal,  making  patriotism  mean  a  nobler,  higher  thing 
to  every  loyal  citizen  of  the  gi'eat  Republic.  What 
Munger  thought  of  it  he  has  told  us  in  the  address 
from  which  we  have  alreadj^  quoted: 

The  "Nation"  was  distinctly  due  to  the  War.  If  there 
are  intelligent  critics  and  students  of  history  in  the  coming 
centuries  they  will  not  fail  to  acknowledge  that  the  pro- 
foundest  conception  of  the  nature  of  the  Nation  and  the  first 
unfolding  of  it  as  a  moral  organism  in  this  country  was  the 
work  of  Mulford  as  he  watched  the  struggles  of  the  country 
in  its  great  conflict.  He  saw  what  Dr.  George  A.  Gordon 
has  so  admirably  described  in  his  recent  Lowell  Lecture — 
that  it  was  a  "Conflict  between  the  humanity  of  the  nation 


174    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

and  its  inhumanity."  Mulford,  in  hopelessly  abstract  lan- 
guage, made  Gordon's  statement  even  more  concrete  by  say- 
ing that  the  nation  as  a  moral  organism  was  struggling  to 
save  its  own  life. 

Other  associations  too  were  cooperating  to  develop 
Hunger's  literary  powers.  While  still  in  Haver- 
hill he  had  become  a  member  of  a  club  in  Boston, 
chiefly  composed  of  ministers  and  men  of  literary 
taste  and  standing.  The  quality  of  contributions  to 
the  Winthrop  Club  must  be  of  the  highest,  and  in 
April,  1866,  we  find  among  these  an  "Essay  on 
Robertson,"  prepared  by  Munger  with  an  enthusiasm 
which  bespeaks  his  moral  earnestness  and  apprecia- 
tion of  the  need  for  reconstruction  in  religion,  as 
much  as  its  literary  finish  evinces  his  capacity  for  the 
service  he  was  soon  to  perform. 

The  essay  is  an  appreciation  of  Robertson,  both 
as  man  and  thinker.  His  devoted  life,  cut  off  at  thirty- 
seven  after  having  proved  himself,  in  a  few  years 
of  service  in  his  obscure  little  parish  at  Brighton, 
the  foremost  preacher  of  the  age,  met  Plunger's 
ideal  of  the  preacher.  The  freedom  of  his  principles 
of  thought,  fearlessly  confronting  those  great  prob- 
lems of  religious  faith  from  which  a  Ne\^^nan  recoiled 
into  the  shelter  of  infallible  authority,  kindled  INIun- 
ger's  own  aspiration  to  take  up  the  standard  and 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  175 

carry  it  forward.  One  might  read  between  the  hnes 
of  this  essay  the  promise  of  a  work  not  alien  in  spirit 
from  Robertson's  own.    But  the  time  was  not  yet. 

The  period  of  service  in  the  High  Street  Church 
reached  its  predetermined  close  on  April  1,  1871, 
with  the  completion  of  the  arrangements  which 
formed  the  Union  Church,  and  Hunger's  people 
testified  their  appreciation  of  his  services  by  a  gift 
of  two  hundred  and  fiftj^  dollars.  Besides  the  con- 
sciousness of  usefulness,  Munger's  work  in  Provi- 
dence had  brought  him  the  privilege  of  close  relations 
with  an  old  classmate  and  friend,  James  Gardiner 
Vose;  for  Vose  had  begun  his  almost  lifelong  pas- 
torate over  the  Beneficent  Church  in  Providence  in 
January,  1866.  It  brought  also  some  valued  friend- 
ships, including  renewed  association  with  J.  Lewis 
Diman,^  then  professor  in  the  university,  whose  theo- 
logical writings  and  preaching  were  alreadj^  drawing 
the  attention  of  thoughtful  men.  It  had  also  been 
marked  by  some  approaches  toward  publication. 
But  these  Avere  still  very  slight,  for  long  and  careful 
as  Munger's  training  had  been,  his  entrance  into  the 
field  of  letters  was  greatly  delayed.  A  single  article 
had  appeared  in  The  Congregationalist  in  1860, 
entitled  "The  Revival,"  but  for  ten  years  this  re- 

1  Author  of  "The  Theistic  Argument  as  Affected  by  Recent  Theories." 


176    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

mained  almost  his  only  printed  work.  Now,  in  the 
same  year  as  the  "Memorial  of  Mr.  Duncan,"  we  find 
record  of  another  article  in  The  Congregationalist  on 
"A  National  Conference"  and  a  lecture  before  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  at  Haverhill  on 
"The  Reform  of  Labor."  The  lecture  was  not  given 
without  personal  study  of  industrial  conditions,  and 
the  growing  agitations  in  this  direction  were  soon  to 
call  for  further  employment  of  his  powers  of  thought 
and  expression. 

Meantime,  a  new  factor  was  entering  the  home 
life,  touching  it  with  the  deep  sympathy  of  pain.  In 
the  summer  of  1870  the  little  daughter,  who  from  the 
very  first  had  been  a  constant  source  of  joy,  began 
to  show  disquieting  symptoms  of  weakness  and  suf- 
fering, which  culminated  in  "serious  spinal  disease." 
The  best  medical  care  then  obtainable  was  secured, 
but  little  by  little  its  futility  became  apparent,  and 
little  "Rosa,"  the  sunshine  of  the  home,  was  physi- 
cally crippled  by  the  disease,  though  spiritually  and 
mentally  her  nature  generously  responded  to  the 
double  portion  of  tenderness  and  love  poured  out 
upon  her.  Father  and  daughter  had  been  playmates 
before ;  they  became  comrades  now,  so  far  as  a  child's 
sympathy  of  thought  can  accompany  a  father's.  But 
the  discipline  of  pain  had  its  predestined  place  in  the 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  177 

family  life.  It  now  began  its  part.  Later  years  were 
to  prove  the  "soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil"  in  this 
affliction  also.  The  younger  children  grew  up, 
obtained  their  education  and  took  their  places  in 
homes  and  families  of  their  own.  The  brief  period 
of  care  and  sacrifice  needful  to  qualify  them  for  their 
independent  careers  brought  its  twofold  measure  of 
compensation,  first  in  the  joys  of  family  life  in  the 
parental  household,  and  later  in  parental  satisfaction 
in  the  children's  success.  But  Rose  remained  her 
father's  close  companion,  ultimately  his  helper  in 
literary  work.  So  little  by  little,  as  the  hope  of  physi- 
cal soundness  was  taken  away,  the  world  of  mind, 
of  spirit,  of  affection,  opened  its  doors  the  wider  as 
other  doors  were  closed. 

Hunger's  reputation  as  a  preacher  was  too  well 
established  in  Southern  New  England  by  spring  of 
1871  to  allow  his  services  to  remain  long  unclaimed. 
After  the  consummation  of  the  union  by  a  unanimous 
vote,  followed  by  confirmatory  action  of  council, 
Munger  preached,  on  April  2,  in  the  Eliot  Church  at 
Lawrence,  Mass.,  and  again  on  the  following  Sunday 
in  the  same  pulpit.  The  next  Sunday  was  spent  in 
Boston  preaching  in  the  Chambers  Street  Church  in 
the  morning  and  the  Old  South  Church  in  the  even- 
ing, but  the  following  Sunday  finds  him  again  at  the 


178  THEODORE  THORNTON  ^lUNGER 

Eliot  Church,  and  in  the  journal  for  Tuesday,  April 
25,  is  the  entry:  "Mr.  Russell  of  Lawrence  called, 
bringing  to  me  a  call  from  the  Eliot  Church  in  Law- 
rence, made  out  last  evening.  The  call  was  unani- 
mous, and  was  preceded  by  a  payment  of  the  church 
debt  of  $14,000 — pa5'ment  to  be  made  conditional  on 
my  acceptance."  A  letter  accepting  the  call  was  sent 
on  the  following  Thursday. 

The  salary  offered  and  accepted  was  $2,500,  the 
same  that  Hunger  had  been  receiving  in  Providence ; 
not  munificent,  but  sufiicient  for  careful  housekeep- 
ing. There  was  still  a  premium  on  gold,  however, 
and  it  was  found  a  measure  of  economy  to  purchase 
a  barrel  of  flour  at  $12.50  and  fifty  pounds  of  sugar 
at  fourteen  cents  a  pound.  Yet  in  many  ways  the 
new  beginning  in  Lawrence  was  the  most  auspicious 
thus  far  experienced.  The  installing  council  which 
convened  on  June  14  was  unanimous  in  its  approval, 
and  had  not  so  much  as  raised  a  question  upon  the 
candidate's  statement  of  his  doctrinal  beliefs.  The 
church  itself,  which  bore  the  name  of  Munger's  ances- 
tor, the  man  of  whom  Richard  Baxter  said,  "There  is 
no  man  on  earth  that  I  honor  above  him,"  was  a 
recent  and  strong  foundation  in  a  city  already  dis- 
tinguished among  the  great  textile  centres  of  Xew 
England.    An  offshoot  from  the  two  older  Congre- 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  179 

gational  churches  of  the  city,  founded  with  their 
cordial  approval  to  meet  the  demands  of  growth,  its 
inward  and  outward  relations  had  been  full  of  har- 
mony and  good  will.  The  occasion  for  Hunger's 
coming  had  been  no  dissatisfaction,  but  the  untimely 
death  of  a  gifted  and  devoted  pastor.  Rev.  William 
F.  Snow,  under  whom  its  membership  had  grown  in 
the  five  years  of  its  existence  from  thirty-two  to  one 
hundred  and  twenty-nine.  Hunger's  coming  was 
but  three  months  after  the  death  of  Hr.  Snow,  and 
we  have  seen  how  unanimous  the  action  of  the  church 
had  been.  The  only  cloud  on  the  prospects  of  the 
young  and  vigorous  organization  was  a  remaining 
burden  of  debt  for  its  recently  built  house  of  worship. 
The  fourteen  thousand  already  paid  had  left  an 
uncancelled  remainder  of  some  $7,000.  In  these 
financial  matters  Hunger  proved  a  wise  counsellor. 
By  his  advice  the  church  finances  were  committed  to 
the  care  of  an  ecclesiastical  society,  after  the  usual 
plan  of  Congregational  churches,  and  with  excellent 
results. 

Early  in  Hunger's  ministry  at  Lawrence  occurred 
the  death  of  one  of  the  great  English  leaders  of  Chris- 
tian thought,  one  whose  influence  on  his  own  life  had 
been  exceeded  by  Robertson  alone,  and  who  to  his 
friend,  Hulford,  had  been  an  object  of  idolized  devo- 


180    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

tion.     To  Mulford  we  find  him  writing  in  April, 
1872: 

The  death  of  Maurice  makes  the  world  seem  lonely.  When 
such  a  man  goes  from  us  half  the  world  goes  with  him,  and 
seems  lost  to  us.  All  Persia  may  star\'e,  and  we  pity  them; 
but  when  a  great  mind  and  one  so  helpful  dies,  there  comes 
a  sense  of  desolation.  I  confess  that  I  am  not  of  a  temper 
to  throw  my  cap  in  the  air  and  hurrah  over  everything  that 
takes  place  because  all  is  for  the  best.  The  time  has  not  yet 
come  for  the  eternal  calm  to  settle  upon  us,  nor  do  I  believe 
it  ever  will  fvlly.  I  cannot  conceive  of  life  progressing 
except  under  the  antagonism  of  joy  and  sorrow. 

A  criticism  earlier  in  the  letter  of  Maurice's  style 
and  service  to  theological  thought  is  followed  by 
expressions  of  wonder  at  the  insensibility  of  the  reli- 
gious public  in  America  to  the  common  loss,  an 
insensibility  which  today  seems  surprising  enough. 

His  death  has  made  me  more  sad  than  I  could  have  sup- 
posed— not  his  death  simply,  but  the  silence  with  which  it  is 
received  in  this  country.  It  was  some  time  before  I  could 
substantiate  some  vague  allusions  to  it  that  I  heard.  I  pre- 
sume it  was  noticed  while  I  was  at  the  South.  I  read  two 
Religious  papers  (they  are  truly  such),  The  Congregational- 
ist  and  The  Advance,  and  neither,  so  far  as  I  have  seen,  have 
more  than  adverted  to  him.  What  an  ignorant  people  we 
are!     These  papers   are  very   religious.      If   a   Congrega- 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  181 

tional  minister  receives  a  present  of  a  study  chair  the 
world  is  informed  of  it  to  the  extent  of  thirty  thousand  read- 
ers. And  just  now  The  Advance  is  trying  to  say  in  the  least 
offensive  way  that  a  man  cannot  be  a  Christian  unless  he 
believes  in  eternal  punishment.  Of  course  it  is  twisting  itself 
into  all  sorts  of  shapes  in  its  efforts  to  say  that  it  does  not 
quite  mean  exactly  that,  but  something  like  it  with  certain 
qualifications.  I  say,  If  a  man  believes  it,  let  him  say  so. 
If  he  does  not,  say  so.  If  he  is  uncertain  let  him  hold  his 
peace.  For  my  own  part  I  am  trying  more  and  more  to 
preach  a  gospel  of  deliverance — the  forgiveness  of  sins.  I 
cannot  tell  you  what  an  almost  "insufferable  light"  gathers 
about  the  Gospel  when  I  thus  look  at  it.  I  had  occasion 
last  evening  to  speak  comparatively  of  Isaiah  Ivii.  13  and 
Romans  viii.  1,  the  same  spirit,  the  same  fact  even,  in  both 
places  though  in  much  grander  form  in  Isaiah  than  in  Paul. 
Yet  Isaiah's  declaration  is  weak  because  it  is  a  word;  whereas 
Paul's  is  based  upon  a  human  manifestation.  Have  you 
ever  noticed  how  in  Isaiah  Ivii.  15  God  is  described — 
preparatory  to  the  assurance  of  forgiveness.'' 

The  charge  of  provincialism  and  intolerance 
brought  against  contemporary  American  Congrega- 
tionalism was  largely  just.  As  a  nation  we  combine 
self-sufficiency  with  an  amazing  ignorance.  And  in 
1872  the  religious  atmosphere  of  Boston  itself  was 
surprisingly  unaffected  by  European  thought  and 
criticism.     Munger,  as  we  know,  had  kept  in  touch 


182    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

with  the  movement  of  religious  thought  in  England. 
His  more  fortunate  circumstances  were  in  part  the 
cause.  In  Dorchester  he  had  kept  in  constant  con- 
tact with  men  of  light  and  leading,  personally  and 
through  the  printed  page.  In  Lawrence  new  friend- 
ships began,  including  names  such  as  Horace  E. 
Scudder  and  George  MacDonald.  There  was  ample 
ground  for  Plunger's  strictures.  The  "ignorance" 
complained  of  was  largely  wilful.  The  provincialism 
and  intolerance  were  real.  And  their  effect  was  most 
injurious  in  the  period  of  reconstruction.  It  will  be 
needful  to  review  briefly  the  course  of  preceding 
events. 

Bj^  its  very  nature  Puritanism  resents  the  stigma 
of  an  unworthy  membership.  In  New  England, 
while  "regeneration"  continued  to  be  its  absolute 
condition,  there  was  relaxation  in  practice.  Wherein 
did  the  proof  of  "regeneration"  consist?  To  those 
whose  way  of  thinking  was  such  as  Munger  imputes 
to  The  Advance  it  had  come  to  be  largely  an  accep- 
tance of  traditional  doctrine.  This  departure  from 
primitive  Congregationalism  was  not  without  a  his- 
tory. The  great  "New-light"  controversy  of  the 
days  of  Whitfield  and  Edwards  swept  over  the 
churches  in  reaction  from  the  influx  of  members 
under  the  so-called  "Half-way  covenant."     JNIen  of 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  183 

upright  life,  who  5^et  could  not  profess  the  experience 
of  the  "twice-born,"  were  admitted  to  those  more 
general  privileges  of  the  church  which  in  the  prevail- 
ing political  conditions  of  the  colonial  period  were 
necessarj^  to  full  rights  of  citizenship.  Lax  interpre- 
tation in  certain  quarters  had  been  an  inevitable 
result.  Closer  definition  of  that  "consistency  of 
behavior"  with  religious  profession  which  the  primi- 
tive standards  of  Puritanism  demanded  was  felt  to 
be  necessary.  How  should  the  membership  of  the 
"church  visible"  be  brought  into  closer  coincidence 
with  the  membership  of  the  "church  invisible,"  the 
"blessed  company  of  all  Christ's  faithful  people"  as 
the  prayer-book  phrases  it?  This  was  the  practical 
question  confronting  all  the  "free"  churches  during 
the  nineteenth  century.  Laxity  of  belief  might  in  the 
judgment  of  many  go  so  far  as  to  make  the  profes- 
sion of  "Christian"  faith  incredible.  Creeds  were 
drawn  up  to  meet  this  danger.  The  "liberal"  move- 
ment in  Massachusetts,  at  the  beginning  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  produced  the  so-called  "Unitarian 
schism,"  wherein  the  contention  of  the  "liberals"  was 
the  old-time  Congregational  principle  that  "the 
covenant  and  not  the  creed  is  the  basis  of  church 
membership."  JNIany  conservatives,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  come  to  feel  in  the  heat  of  controversy  that 


184    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

"liberal"  views  regarding  the  person  of  Christ  and 
other  fundamental  doctrines  were  inconsistent  with 
a  truly  "regenerate"  character.  Hence  the  adoption 
of  the  novel  and  dangerous  expedient  of  using  the 
creeds  or  statements  of  belief  not  as  "testimonies"  but 
as  "tests."  The  formulation  of  these  had  been  expli- 
citly recognized  as  a  prerogative  of  the  churches  by 
the  Boston  Council  in  1865.  But  many  churches 
were  making  assent  to  them  a  condition  of  member- 
ship. Had  the  local  creeds  been  limited,  like  the 
Burial  Hill  Declaration,  to  doctrines  denial  of  which 
was,  in  the  honest  judgment  of  their  framers,  incom- 
patible with  the  discipleship  acknowledged  by  the 
great  Head  of  the  Church,  the  practice  would  have 
been  less  objectionable.  Christian  charit}"  and  com- 
mon sense  would  soon  have  gained  the  upper  hand 
over  controversial  zeal.  But  the  process  once  begun 
extended  far  beyond  the  original  intent.  The  effort 
came  to  be  to  exclude  not  merely  those  who  in  their 
whole  life,  their  professed  faith,  and  their  actual  char- 
acter taken  together,  must  needs  be  regarded  as 
unacceptable  to  Christ  himself,  but  above  and  beyond 
this  certain  others  unacceptable  only  to  "our  church" 
or  "our  denomination."  Many  of  the  self-styled 
"orthodox"  or  "Trinitarian"  Congregational  cliurches 
of    New    England    found    themselves    as    a    con- 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  185 

sequence  of  this  movement,  begun  about  1800,  in  the 
anomalous  position  of  saying  to  men  and  women 
whom,  by  their  own  acknowledgment,  Christ  himself 
might  be  welcoming  as  "my  brother,  and  my  sister, 
and  my  mother":  "You  may  be  members  of  the 
'church  invisible'  but  you  cannot  be  members  of  'our 
church.'  "  The  moment  this  line  is  crossed  catho- 
licity breaks  down.  It  is  true  that  Protestant  "de- 
nominations" generally  find  themselves  more  or  less 
in  the  same  predicament,  in  proportion  as  their  recog- 
nition of  real  discipleship  has  come  to  be  wider  than 
the  denominational  fold.  But  the  Congregational 
polity,  with  its  principle  of  the  independence  of  the 
local  church,  side  by  side  with  its  emphatic  affirma- 
tions of  catholicity,  permits  the  anomaly  to  appear  in 
its  extreme  form.  Thus  the  same  Council  of  1865, 
which  in  Boston  had  explicitly  affirmed  the  right  of 
the  local  church  to  formulate  its  own  creed,  pro- 
ceeded upon  adjournment  to  Plymouth  to  adopt  the 
Burial  Hill  Declaration  without  a  dissenting  voice. 
And  the  Burial  Hill  Declaration  is  before  all  things 
a  declaration  of  catholicity.  It  commends  as  the 
"distinctive  excellence  of  our  Congregational  sys- 
tem" that  it  "facilitates  the  union  of  all  true  believers 
in  one  Christian  church,"  and  denounces  its  actual 
division  as  "the  shame  and  the  scandal  of  Christen- 


186    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

dom."  Its  declaration  of  the  common  faith  is  not 
only  couched  in  phraseology  purposely  made  general 
and  comprehensive  even  to  the  point  of  amhiguity, 
but  is  introduced  by  a  preamble  of  whose  spirit  the 
clauses  just  quoted  bear  witness,  and  which  concludes 
as  follows: 

We  rejoice  that,  through  the  influence  of  our  free  system 
of  apostolic  order,  we  can  hold  fellowship  with  all  who 
acknowledge  Christ;  and  (can)  act  efficiently  in  the  work 
of  restoring  unity  to  the  divided  Church,  and  of  bringing 
back  harmony  and  peace  among  all  "who  love  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  in  sincerity." 

Thus  recognizing  the  unity  of  the  Church  of  Christ  in 
all  the  world,  and  knowing  that  we  are  hiU  one  branch  of 
Christ's  people,  while  adhering  to  our  own  peculiar  faith 
and  order,  we  extend  to  all  believers  the  hand  of  Christian 
fellowship,  upon  the  basis  of  those  great  fundamental  truths 
in  wliich  all  Christians  should  agree.  With  them  we 
confess.   .    .    . 

The  Burial  Hill  Declaration  remains  the  only 
creed  which  a  body  representative  of  American  Con- 
gregationalism as  a  whole  has  ever  approved.  It  is 
hard  to  see  how  the  principle  of  catholicity  could  be 
more  carefully  guarded.  Nothing  whatever  is 
affirmed  as  belonging  to  the  substance  of  the  faith 
that  is  rejected  by  any  Christian.     The  doctrines  it 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  187 

propounds  as  vital  are  sincerely  intended  to  meet  the 
ancient  standard  of  a  "historic"  faith,  the  require- 
ment that  it  shall  be  quod  semper,  quod  uhique,  quod 
ah  omnibus.  Perhaps  no  creed  has  ever  been  formu- 
lated with  less  of  the  desire  to  exclude,  or  more  of  the 
desire  to  be  inclusive  in  fellowship. 

And  3^et,  as  we  have  seen,  its  adoption  was  a  sub- 
ject of  vehement  protest  to  men  like  Hunger.  In  his 
letter  to  Mulford  soon  after  the  Boston  Council,  a 
letter  from  which  we  have  already  quoted,  he  refers 
to  its  work  in  no  measured  terms.  He  accuses  its 
members  of  "imposing  a  yoke  which  Christ  has  not 
imposed."  Is  this,  then,  because  of  the  closing  affir- 
mation that : 

Those  who  thus  hold  "one  faith,  one  Lord,  one  bap- 
tism" together  constitute  the  one  CathoHc  Church,  the  sev- 
eral households  of  which,  though  called  by  different  names, 
are  the  one  body  of  Christ, 

and  the  pledge  of  cooperation  "with  all  who  hold 
these  truths"  in  the  work  of  universal  evangelization? 
Surely  it  would  need  to  be  shown  that  the  creed  as 
formulated  does  not  really  express  what  it  so  re- 
peatedly asserts  as  its  intended  content,  the  faith  of 
"the  whole  Church,"  excluding  none,  even  "though 
called  by  different  names."  But  no;  this  is  not  the 
charge.     Conscious  violation  of  the  professed  princi- 


188    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

pie  could  hardly  be  maintained  against  the  authors 
of  the  instrument.  Hunger's  objection  has  a  differ- 
ent aim.  The  "weak  spot"  in  Congregationalism  of 
which  he  complains  is  a  habit  wliich  by  1865  had 
become  general  among  American  Congregational- 
ists,  though  tolerated  in  no  other  land  and  plainly 
subversive  of  fundamental  principles  of  the  body.  It 
is  the  exclusion  from  church  membership  of  persons 
not  denied  to  be  true  followers  of  Christ.  As  the 
letter  puts  it,  "The  very  best  persons  in  my  congre- 
gation cannot  come  into  the  church  because  of  a  lum- 
bering creed  that  only  here  and  there  by  chance 
touches  Christianity."  Local  covenants  as  well  as 
local  creeds  were  made  instruments  of  this  abuse. 
But  always  at  bottom  it  was  in  consequence  of  the 
same  delusion,  the  narrow  delusion  of  the  "denomina- 
tion," the  irrepressible  notion  that  it  is  somehow  per- 
missible to  take  action  nominally  on  behalf  of  the 
undivided  Christ,  while  the  real  horizon  is  limited  to 
"our  church,"  or  "our  denomination."  It  was  be- 
cause he  saw  in  it  an  outcome  of  this  uncatholic,  self- 
centred  spirit  that  Hunger  took  exception  to  the 
action  of  the  Boston  Council. 

The  evil  was  far  from  exceptional.  Throughout 
New  England  there  were  churches  whose  covenants 
required    of    candidates    for    membership    Sabbath 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  189 

observance,  total  abstinence,  and  whatever  else  might 
please  the  dominant  faction  of  a  local  church — 
excellent  practices  for  the  most  part,  but  far  beyond 
"the  yoke  imposed  by  Christ  himself."  And  if  this 
was  true  of  local  covenants,  it  was  still  more  true  of 
local  creeds.  Availing  themselves  of  the  unbounded 
liberty  of  independency,  pastors  and  committees  had 
drawn  up  creeds  to  their  own  liking  which  upon  the 
vote  of  a  bare  majority  of  members,  might  be,  and 
often  had  been,  made  a  barrier  to  all  candidates  for 
admission  not  of  this  theological  opinion.  The  very 
authors  of  these  covenants  and  creeds  were  not  aim- 
ing to  present  Christ's  conditions,  nor  to  define  the 
"historic"  faith.  They  were  aiming  to  frame  their 
own  conditions,  to  define  their  own  faith  and  that  of 
their  immediate  narrow  circle.  Nor  could  the  absurd- 
ity of  the  process  have  escaped  them,  had  there  not 
always  been  present  that  convenient  receptacle  for 
the  excluded  Christian — some  "other  denomination." 
Schism  had  been  first  endured,  then  pitied,  then 
embraced. 

Thus  official  and  public  utterances  said  one  thing; 
real  practice  in  particular  communities  said  another. 
The  Declarations,  framed  by  the  great  leaders,  men 
familiar  with  the  ancient  principles,  are  full  of  catho- 
licity, they  breathe  the  very  atmosphere  of  toleration 


190    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

and  liberty.  But  among  the  forces  which  gave  them 
birth  and  would  also  turn  them  to  account  was  the 
narrow  spirit  of  intolerance,  whose  final  definition  of 
the  "historic"  faith  must  ever  be:  The  faith  as  it  has 
at  last  come  to  unfold  itself  to  me. 

The  two  conceptions  stand  in  absolute  opposition. 
With  the  one,  catholicity  involves  more  and  more,  as 
larger  experience  proves  real  Christian  life  depend- 
ent on  fewer  and  fewer  of  the  things  once  mistakenly 
deemed  essential.  With  the  other,  it  involves  less  and 
less.  Real  catholicity  is  already  abandoned  as  a 
futile  dream.  It  accepts  the  miserable  fait  accompli 
of  schism,  the  doctrine  that  Christ  is  divided,  and 
seeks  only  the  supremacy  of  its  own  division. 

Both  tendencies  were  present  in  the  Boston  Coun- 
cil of  1865.  The  noble  associations  of  Burial  Hill 
brought  catholicity  at  last  to  the  fore ;  but  the  debates 
of  the  preceding  sessions  had  shown  the  presence  of 
a  large  element  whose  idea  of  reconstruction  was  the 
consolidation  of  a  denominational  organization,  with 
sharper  definition  of  the  (denominational)  creed  as 
the  primary  step.  For  a  generation  after  the  Civil 
War  this  remained  the  issue  in  the  problem  of  recon- 
struction. The  problem  itself  is  that  of  the  Republic 
of  God,  to  which  the  Congregationalism  of  the 
fathers  had  sought  to  apply  the  principle  of  "vari- 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  191 

ety  in  unit}'."  Opposed  to  this  is  the  denominational 
idea,  which  relinquishes  the  ancient  faith  in,  and  hope 
for,  catholicity,  and  seeks  only  to  be  the  best  among 
the  sects,  in  the  tacit  hope  that  sooner  or  later  the 
best  will  also  prove  the  strongest. 

Since  the  time  of  the  Unitarian  schism  the  problem 
of  catholicity  has  been  peculiarly  vital  for  the 
churches  of  Eastern  Massachusetts.  We  have  seen 
how  it  affected  Hunger  in  Dorchester  at  the  very 
beginning  of  his  ministry.  The  time  was  not  far  off 
when  his  part  in  the  struggle  would  be  a  leading  one. 
Meantime,  the  Eliot  Church  was  not  without  its  phase 
of  the  problem,  while  echoes  of  the  conflict  in  the 
Boston  Council  were  destined  to  sound  among  the 
New  England  hills  for  many  years  to  come. 

Exercise  of  the  inalienable  right  of  each  local 
church — the  Congregational  unit — to  formulate  its 
own  creed  and  covenant  will  inevitably  produce  as 
many  sects  as  churches,  if  the  framers  of  the  stan- 
dards define  and  legislate  in  the  interest  of  no  larger 
body  than  their  own  local  organization.  In  propor- 
tion as  this  narrow  viewpoint  is  transcended  the  evils 
of  sectarianism  will  disappear,  until  with  the  sincere 
effort  of  each  free  community  to  make  its  member- 
ship and  work  coincide  with  the  membership  and 
work  of  Christ  in  that  locality,  the  last  occasion  or 


192    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

excuse  for  schism  shall  have  vanished.  But  tolera- 
tion is  a  virtue  which  flourishes  best  among  the 
oppressed.  In  Xew  England  the  conditions  which 
had  given  birth  to  church  liberty  were  reversed. 
Toleration  was  no  longer  the  goal  in  view,  but  a  boon 
to  be  extended  (if  one  saw  fit)  to  others.  Too  often 
it  was  refused,  and  witli  refusal  came  the  growth  of 
sects.  When  at  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury Massachusetts  was  rent  from  end  to  end  by  the 
Unitarian  schism,  the  "liberals"  appealed  to  the 
ancient  Congregational  principle:  "The  covenant, 
not  the  creed,  is  the  basis  of  fellowship."  They 
appealed  too  long  in  vain.  The  formula  should  be 
no  monopoly  of  Congregationalists.  Loyalty  of 
heart,  as  evinced  in  cooperation  to  the  common  end, 
is  a  better  bond  of  union  than  clearness  (or  perhaps 
mere  conventionality)  of  mind.  With  greater  or  less 
consistency  this  principle  is  recognized  by  all  the 
Protestant  churches,  which  if  never  so  strict  in  their 
requirements  as  to  the  orthodoxy  of  church  teachers, 
do  not  stultify  themselves  by  requiring  those  who 
enter  the  membership  to  be  qualified  in  matters  of  the 
head,  but  only  of  the  heart.  It  was  the  misfortune  of 
New  England  Congregationalism,  in  encounter- 
ing midway  in  its  development  a  strong  movement 
of    intellectual    liberalism,    to    bring    against    it    an 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  193 

equally  strong  development  of  the  spirit  of  local 
independence.  The  result  was  a  veritable  canoniza- 
tion of  the  sectarian  spirit.  Unitarians  were  at  first 
excluded  on  the  logical  ground  that  no  denier  of  the 
divinity  (or,  as  sometimes  phrased,  the  deity)  of 
Christ  could  be  a  Christian,  however  Christ-like  his 
life.  Later,  when  experience  disproved  this,  the  ex- 
clusion continued  notwithstanding.  Contrary  to 
ancient  principle  it  rested  on  doctrinal  grounds  alone. 
A  bare  majority  in  the  smallest  village  or  suburban 
church  felt  itself  justified  in  defining  Christianity  to 
the  exclusion  not  only  of  Unitarians,  but  (logically) 
of  the  non-conforming  minorit}^  and  sluj  others  who 
might  happen  not  to  be  in  agreement, — nay,  even  of 
persons  who,  if  appljdng  as  candidates  dismissed  by 
letter  from  other  churches,  would  have  been  received. 
The  question  whether  they  were  Christians  or  not  no 
longer  interfered  with  the  process.  There  were 
"other  denominations"  for  them  to  join  if  they 
wished.  A  collection  of  nineteenth  century  "creeds" 
from  the  New  England  churches,  almost  invariably 
framed  not  as  "testimonies"  to  the  beliefs  of  the 
framers,  but  as  "tests"  to  exclude  Unitarians  and 
other  obnoxious  brands  of  Christians,  would  be 
laughable  were  it  not  melancholy.  The  absurdities  of 
the  situation  called  for  reconstruction.   In  the  Boston 


194    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Council  there  were,  as  we  have  seen,  "denomination- 
ahsts,"  whose  cure  was  to  raise  the  process  to  a  higher 
plane,  superseding  local  creeds  by  a  simplified,  yet 
safeh'  orthodox,  uniform  creed  for  the  "denomina- 
tion." As  we  have  seen  there  were  otliers  whom  we 
may  venture  to  designate  Old  Congregationalists, 
reluctant  as  the  fathers  had  been  to  formulate  any 
creed  at  all,  determined  if  one  were  formulated  that 
it  should  be  at  all  events  "catholic"  and  not  merely 
"denominational."  This  question  had  still  its  course 
to  run. 

The  question  of  local  idiosyncracies  in  the  cove- 
nant was  easier  of  settlement,  and  did  not  occupy 
the  attention  of  councils.  As  we  have  seen,  obscura- 
tion of  the  idea  of  catholicity  and  the  narrowing 
influence  of  provincial  individualism  had  led  many 
Congregational  churches  to  treat  the  forms  employed 
in  the  "covenants"  as  though  the  service  and  loyalty 
therein  pledged  were  due  not  to  the  Church's  Head, 
but  to  the  local  brotherhood.  Temperance  was  a 
very  important  reform.  Total  abstinence  was  a  good 
method,  and  in  the  eyes  of  many  the  only  method,  of 
promoting  the  reform.  A  few  regarded  the  tasting 
of  any  alcoholic  beverage  as  sinful  in  itself,  recon- 
ciling their  opinion  with  Scriptural  precedent  by 
various  exegetical  expedients.      Numerous  churches 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  195 

accordingly  embodied  total  abstinence  pledges  in  the 
church  covenant,  not  because  a  church  could  not  be 
a  church  of  Christ  without  being  also  limited  to  total 
abstainers,  but  because  having  for  the  time  being  a 
majority  in  the  organization  they  thought  it  per- 
missible to  enlist  their  church  to  this  particular 
method  of  temperance  reform,  and  bid  Christians  of 
other  views  go  elsewhere. 

Among  the  well-meaning  churches  which  had 
inserted  such  a  pledge  was  the  Eliot  Church.  The  new 
pastor,  himself  in  practice  an  abstainer,  unostenta- 
tiously obtained  its  removal,  on  the  just  ground  that 
the  church  covenant  is  not  a  proper  place  for  pledges 
of  the  kind.  The  creed  nevertheless  remained.  Like 
that  complained  of  to  Mulford  in  1865,  it  was  doubt- 
less a  barrier  to  "some  of  the  best  people  in  the  con- 
gregation." But  the  use  of  creeds  involved  problems 
of  reconstruction  on  more  extensive  lines.  The  pro- 
cess had  begun  in  the  deliberations  of  nation-wide 
assemblies.  In  November,  1871,  a  second  National 
Council  convened  at  Oberlin,  Ohio,  resuming  the 
work  of  the  Boston  Council  and  opening  the  series  of 
Triennial  Councils  since  maintained.  Foremost 
among  the  questions  considered  was  that  of  "catho- 
licity," and  the  Council  put  on  record  one  more 
"Declaration  on  the  Unity  of  the  Church"  prepared 


196    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

by  a  committee  whose  chairman  was  Leonard  Bacon. 
It  "renewed  the  previous  declarations,"  affirming  the 
hberty  of  our  churches  to  be  "the  ground  and  hope  of 
a  more  visible  unity  in  time  to  come."  Reiterating 
"the  same  catholic  sentiments  solemnly  avowed  by 
the  Council  of  1865,  on  the  Burial  Hill  at  Plymouth" 
it  explicitly  disavows  on  behalf  of  Congregation- 
alists  the  "pretension  to  be  the  only  churches  of 
Christ,"  asserting  that : 

We  find  ourselves  consulting  and  acting  together  under 
the  distinctive  name  of  Congregationalists,  because  in  the 
present  condition  of  our  common  Christianity,  we  have  felt 
ourselves  called  to  ascertain  and  do  our  own  appropriate 
part  of  the  work  of  Christ's  church  among  men. 

The  Declaration  concludes: 

We  believe  in  "the  holy  catholic  church."  It  is  our  prayer 
and  endeavor  that  the  unity  of  the  church  may  be  more  and 
more  apparent,  and  that  the  prayer  of  our  Lord  for  his 
disciples  may  be  speedily  and  completely  answered,  and  all 
be  one;  that  by  consequence  of  this  Christian  unity  in  love, 
the  world  may  believe  in  Christ  as  sent  of  the  Father  to  save 
the  world. 

The  effort  for  a  denominational  creed  had  by  no 
means  ceased  in  1871.  There  was  perhaps  an  even 
larger  number  than  before  of  denominationalists, 
whose  ideal  of  reconstruction  meant  uniformitv  in  the 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  197 

denomination  at  the  expense  of  catholicity.  It  was 
the  current  method  of  all  sects.  Its  motto  is :  Unify, 
solidify,  and  compete.  But  at  Oberlin  this  concep- 
tion of  reconstruction  met  little  encouragement.  The 
expression  of  the  Council's  mind  had  fallen  into 
unfavorable  hands.  But  the  issue  was  destined  to  be 
joined.  Meantime  "liberty"  and  "catholicity"  were 
not  forgotten  terms  among  the  Congregational 
churches. 

But  we  must  return  to  the  pastorate  in  Lawrence. 
For  nearly  four  years  the  work  so  auspiciously  begun 
continued  to  prosper  undisturbed  by  the  industrial 
commotion  which  shook  the  community  in  the  early 
summer  of  1872.  It  was  a  period  of  labor  organiza- 
tion, strikes,  and  trades  unions,  and  Lawrence  with  its 
great  mills  was  a  predestined  centre  of  unrest.  Hun- 
ger's church  had  ample  representation  of  both  parties 
to  the  conflict,  and  Hunger,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
already  evinced  his  interest.  Now,  in  the  midst  of  the 
turmoil,  he  had  wise  words  of  counsel  that  thoughtful 
men  on  both  sides  could  profit  by;  and  they  were 
given  not  only  by  word  of  mouth  to  the  limited  audi- 
ence of  Lawrence,  but  published  to  a  wide  circle  of 
readers  in  The  Congj'egationalist,  for  now  the  col- 
umns of  the  religious  weeklies  were  beginning  to 
show  frequent  contributions  from  his  pen. 


198    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

INIunger's  five  successive  articles  on  "The  Lesson 
of  the  Strikes"  in  the  summer  of  1872  were  both 
timely  and  sensible,  showing  a  clear  apprehension  of 
economic  laws  as  formulated  by  Fawcett,  Thornton, 
and  John  Stuart  Mill,  as  well  as  sympathetic  feeling. 
They  were  based  upon  the  same  principles  the  author 
had  advocated  in  the  lecture  at  Haverhill.  Their 
principal  contention  was  for  the  alliance  of  capital 
and  labor  in  recognition  of  common  interest  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  purely  self-regarding  antagonism.  Two 
possible  methods  were  described,  both  already  to 
some  extent  in  operation.  One  was  profit-sharing, 
which  might  more  reasonably  be  demanded  by  the 
workman  than  mere  increase  of  wages  without  regard 
to  economic  conditions;  the  other  was  acquisition  of 
the  means  of  production  by  cooperative  trade  and 
industry.  The  fallacy  of  the  reasoning  underlying 
the  strike  and  the  trades  union  as  commonly  under- 
stood was  clearly  exposed.  Reduction  of  hours  or 
increase  of  wages,  under  conditions  of  free  competi- 
tion, could  only  react  upon  the  laborer  himself,  since 
the  product,  out  of  which  all  wages  must  be  paid,  is 
reduced  in  either  way,  the  marketer  of  the  product, 
or  capitalist,  being  compelled  either  to  go  out  of  busi- 
ness or  raise  his  price.  Increase  of  wages  is  thus 
balanced  by  enhanced  prices  of  commodities.     The 


WIDENING  INFLUENCE  199 

trades  union,  too,  employed  as  an  agent  for  monopo- 
lizing the  labor  market,  defeats  its  own  ends,  for 
it  compels  those  shut  out  from  productive  industries 
to  join  the  great  bodj^  of  parasitic  non-producers  or 
else  the  already  overcrowded  ranks  of  speculators, 
clerks,  and  middlemen.  All  that  is  gained  is  that 
their  support  becomes  a  charge  upon  the  product- 
wage-fund,  without  a  contribution  in  the  form  of 
productive  labor. 

These  were  wholesome  truths,  even  if  proclaimed 
by  one  who  was  no  specialist.  Hunger's  part  was 
that  so  often  depreciated  of  the  mere  clerical  media- 
tor. He  spoke  simply  as  an  advocate  of  peace 
through  equity,  making  no  claims  to  economic  lore, 
but  carefully  studying  authorities.  His  call  to  speak 
was  that  of  him  who  becomes  a  servant  of  all  men  for 
Christ's  sake.  It  is  not  without  interest,  in  these  days 
of  enlianced  prices  due  in  no  small  degree  to  years  of 
warfare  between  labor  and  capital  over  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  product,  to  note  the  prediction  made 
almost  fifty  j^ears  ago  that  the  consumers  must  ulti- 
mately pay  the  cost  of  the  war.  The  wage-earner,  a 
consumer  in  larger  proportion  to  his  income  than  the 
capitalist,  thus  bears  in  the  end  the  greater  part  of 
the  new  burden  imposed. 

Into  the  midst  of  this  happy  pastorate  of  growing 


200    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

usefulness  and  continual  development  came  an  un- 
foreseen interruption.  The  year  1S74>  brought 
increasing  symptoms  of  ill  health,  first  to  one,  then 
to  another  of  the  family.  The  wife  and  mother, 
never  strong,  had  an  alarming  illness  in  the  spring, 
and  in  July  was  sent  to  the  sanatorium  in  Clifton 
Springs,  N.  Y.,  where  she  remained  the  rest  of  the 
3^ear.  Munger  himself  fell  ill  at  the  same  time,  and 
his  recovery  was  followed  by  a  long  period  of  physi- 
cal and  nervous  depression.  Discovery  of  the  cause 
came  too  late.  Defective  plumbing  had  caused  the 
gradual  poisoning  of  the  family.  Nothing  less  radi- 
cal than  removal  to  a  more  genial  climate  offered 
promise  of  complete  return  to  health.  On  January 
20,  1875,  Munger  reluctantly  resigned  his  charge, 
and  made  final  arrangements  for  removal  to  Cali- 
fornia, On  February  21  he  preached  his  farewell 
sermon  in  the  Eliot  Church,  reading  at  the  same  ser- 
vice the  letter  of  acceptance  of  Rev.  J.  H.  Barrows 
whom  the  church  had  already  called  to  be  his  suc- 
cessor. 

]\Iunger's  journey,  already  sad,  was  still  further 
saddened  by  news  of  the  death  of  his  "Aunt  Ger- 
trude." The  funeral  services  for  INIrs.  Selden  were 
held  on  the  day  fixed  for  his  departure. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL 

California,  1875-1877 

Life  in  California  brought  many  contrasts  with 
New  England,  not  all  easy  to  bear,  though  all  were 
turned  to  good  account.  The  journey  west  had  been 
broken  at  Montrose  and  Chicago,  then  rapidly 
recovering  from  its  fearful  holocaust,  and  here  a 
visit  of  some  days  was  made  in  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Munger's  brother-in-law,  Robert  Harris,  an  offi- 
cial of  the  Chicago,  Burlington  and  Quincy  Rail- 
road. "Brother  Selden,"  whose  home  was  also  in 
Chicago,  thus  had  opportunity  as  well  as  those  in 
Montrose  of  bidding  good  cheer  to  the  travelers. 

In  San  Francisco  they  were  received  in  the  home 
of  another  sister  of  Mrs.  Munger,  the  wife  of  a  promi- 
nent lawyer,  but  the  question  of  support  soon  be- 
came urgent.  Munger's  own  health,  while  impaired, 
admitted  of  a  limited  amount  of  work,  especially  if 
carried  on  out  of  doors,  and  negotiations  already 
begun  by  correspondence  from  the  East  were  now 


202     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

completed.  California  was  in  the  exuberance  of  its 
growth.  The  gold  fever  had  scarcely  abated  and  the 
development  of  agriculture  by  irrigation  was  in  its 
first  beginnings.  New  towns  were  rapidly  springing 
up,  especially  around  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  and 
the  Home  JNIissionary  societies  of  the  various  denomi- 
nations had  their  hands  more  than  full  with  the 
task  of  supplying  ministers  and  churches,  even  when 
care  was  taken  not  to  duplicate  the  work.  In  the 
case  of  the  Congregational  board  honorable  precau- 
tions were  taken  against  sectarian  competition,  and 
the  state  superintendent.  Dr.  Coe,  directed  the  new- 
comer to  a  field  where  no  scruples  could  be  raised  on 
this  score:  for  even  the  nearest  church  neighbors, 
Presbj'-terians  by  church  order,  did  not  oppose  the 
undertaking.  It  was  in  the  city  of  San  Jose,  some 
fifty  miles  to  the  southeast  of  San  Francisco,  a  grow- 
ing community,  largely  composed  of  Eastern  people 
of  moral  principle  and  refinement,  but  too  few  in 
numbers  and  of  too  slender  means  to  be  able  to  pro- 
vide more  for  their  religious  requirements  than  a  very 
meagre  stipend,  leaving  the  question  of  a  home  for 
both  pastor  and  congregation  unprovided  for.  Some 
were  invalids  seeking  health  in  the  climate  so 
strangely  contrasting  with  that  of  the  Atlantic  coast, 
some  were  seeking  livelihood  or  fortune  in  the  rapid 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  203 

growth  of  the  new  state;  but  nearly  all  were  obliged 
to  live  with  great  frugality  amid  the  undeveloped 
enterprises  and  inflated  prices  of  a  frontier  region 
where  everybody  is  discounting  the  future. 

To  organize  a  new  church  under  such  conditions, 
start  it  on  right  lines,  nurse  it  into  an  effective  esprit 
de  corps,  and  finally  secure  for  it  an  adequate  and 
commodious  house  of  worship,  free  of  debt,  all  in  the 
space  of  eighteen  months,  is  no  slight  task.  It  means 
the  self-sacrificing  work  of  the  home  missionary, 
often  more  arduous  and  exacting  than  that  of  his 
brother  in  pagan  lands.  This  now  fell  to  Munger's 
lot.  The  honest  pride  with  which  he  looked  back  in 
after  years  on  his  work  in  San  Jose  was  fully  justi- 
fied. "I,  too,  have  been  a  home  missionary"  was  a 
boast  that  meant  much  to  him,  and  might  mean  much 
to  others  if  the  tasks  of  a  home  missionary  were  truly 
appreciated. 

"Here  in  California,"  he  writes,  "the  miracle  of  health 
was  repeated  in  the  air  that  blows  where  no  evil  thing  taints 
it,  and  the  sun  is  every  day  a  giver  of  life.  While  creeping 
back  to  health  I  tried  my  hand  at  building  a  church  in  San 
Jose.  I  begged  the  money  from  my  Eastern  friends,  and 
with  it  bought  the  lumber  in  the  redwood  forests  on  the  hills 
near  by." 

Correspondence  with  Eastern  friends  in  behalf  of 


204    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

the  building  fund  resulted  in  fact  in  the  collection  of 
many  small  gifts,  ranging  from  ten  to  one  hundred 
dollars.  Tliis,  however,  was  nearly  all  the  work 
allowed  to  Munger's  pen. 

In  June,  1875,  an  article  on  "Maxims"  appeared 
in  Scrihner's  Magazine,  but  its  composition  belongs 
to  the  previous  year.  Even  sermon  writing  in  Cali- 
fornia was  indefinitely  postponed,  and  such  strength 
as  the  pastor  had  to  give  was  laid  out  upon  the  out- 
door work  and  social  life  of  his  miniature  parish. 

The  first  congregations  gathered  consisted  of  less 
than  one  hundred  persons ;  but  from  the  first  services, 
held  on  Sunday,  April  11,  1875,  down  to  the  final 
organization  of  the  church  on  June  2,  the  numbers 
increased.  The  permanence  of  the  work  would,  how- 
ever, depend  on  the  securing  of  a  home  for  the  con- 
gregation. A  lot  was  soon  purchased  and  paid  for, 
and  on  July  15  the  building  committee  let  the  con- 
tract to  erect  a  place  of  worship  for  the  sum  of  $860 
"to  be  finished  in  thirtj^  days."  On  August  29  the 
entry  is  made  in  the  diary:  "This  day  first  occupied 
and  dedicated  the  new  Congregational  Church.  Two 
hundred  and  fifty  persons  present.  Sunday-school 
attendance:  pupils  72,  teachers  and  officers  12,  total 
84."  He  soon  became  superintendent  of  the  Sunday- 
school,  and  before  long  missionary  societies  and  the 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  205 

other  organizations  of  normal  church  activity  were  in 
full  operation. 

But  Hunger's  life-work  was  not  to  be  that  of  a 
home  missionary.  His  stay  in  the  wilderness  had  been 
profitable.  Life  in  the  open  air  among  the  mountains 
had  brought  restoration  of  physical  health  to  himself 
and  family  as  well.  Even  the  interruption  of  his 
relations  with  literary  men  and  the  world  of  thought 
and  letters  was  not  without  its  wholesome  effect. 
The  practical,  hand-to-hand  struggle  of  the  frontier 
worker  to  maintain  the  institutions  of  religious  life 
in  the  midst  of  new  surroundings,  and  those  cares  of 
the  world  which  are  all  the  more  apt  to  choke  the 
word  because  the  deceitful  riches  that  occasion  them 
are  riches  not  in  hand  but  in  prospect,  furnished  a 
school  of  experience  well  worth  adding  to  those  of 
a  New  England  minister.  Two  years'  intermission 
of  the  regularly  attended  sessions  of  the  Winthrop 
Club  in  Boston  was  not  too  high  a  price  to  pay  for 
the  new  experience. 

"For  nearly  a  year,"  he  writes,  "I  scarcely  opened  a  book 
or  put  pen  to  paper,  but  spent  the  time  literally  under  the 
open  sky,  studying  the  Santa  Clara  Valley.  Fortunately 
I  had  no  books  to  correct  my  investigation,  and  I  made 
a  clear  discovery  that  the  Garden  of  Eden  lay  in  this  valley. 
The  particular  point  was  six  miles  to  the  westward  of  San 


206    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Jose,  on  the  Santa  Cruz  mountains,  overlooking  the  Pacific — 
a  place  wliich  a  dear  friend  of  mine  named  'Cloud  Land.' 
No  clouds  ever  rested  there,  but  my  friend  was  a  poet,  and 
never  having  seen  or  even  felt  a  cloud,  he  imagined  it  a 
good  place  for  clouds  if  one  should  happen  to  exist. 

"Many  an  hour  I  spent  there,  and  the  heavy  clouds  that 
had  rested  on  us  faded  away,  and  the  place  was  as  heaven.'" 

And  yet  he  was  far  from  content.  Frankly  he 
confesses  to  "homesickness  for  New  England." 

Rather  than  live  in  Cloud  Land,  where  to  the  west  I  could 
look  on  the  Pacific,  and  to  the  east  see  a  landscape  crowned 
by  Mount  Hamilton  holding  sentry  over  the  deepest 
heavens — rather  than  stay  there,  I  would  accept  the  poorest 
church  on  the  roughest  hillside  in  New  England.^ 

And  return  he  did.  He  was  not  dissatisfied,  or  out 
of  sympathy,  with  his  little  redwood  church.  When 
he  resigned  he  left  it  free  from  debt,  after  having 
himself,  personally,  obtained  nine-tenths  of  the 
money  it  had  cost  to  build  it.  His  return  to  the  East 
was  foreordained  because  Hunger's  life-work  could 
not  be  elsewhere.  His  bone  and  flesh  were  of  New 
England ;  but  the  occasion  that  brought  him  back  was 
an  intimation  of  work  to  be  done,  an  intimation  from 
no  merely  human  source. 

1  "Retrospect  of  Fifty  Years  in  the  Ministry." 

2  Ibid. 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  207 

Bushnell  had  ever  been  to  Mimger  the  forerunner 
of  reconstruction  in  New  England  theology,  and  the 
news  of  Bushnell's  death,  February  17,  1876,  recalled 
his  thoughts  to  that  enlargement  of  the  life  of  the 
New  England  church  in  which  he  longed  to  have  a 
share.  For  the  first  time  since  his  arrival  in  Cali- 
fornia he  sat  down  to  write  a  sermon,  which  he 
preached  in  San  Jose,  on  his  birthday,  March  5,  1876, 
little  realizing  how  great  a  transition  it  was  to  bring 
about  in  his  own  career. 

The  sermon  became  later  the  nucleus  of  a  volume 
entitled  "Horace  Bushnell,  Preacher  and  Theo- 
logian," pubhshed  in  1899,  so  that  we  need  do  no 
more  than  trace  its  outline.  Its  opening  sentence  was 
penetrating  and  significant,  describing  Bushnell's 
work  with  precision  and  insight : 

"More  than  any  man  in  the  American  church,"  it  said, 
"he  has  paved  the  way  from  the  old  order  to  the  new;  he 
is  the  connecting  link  between  the  habit  of  thought  expressed 
in  what  are  called  bodies  of  divinity  and  modern  thought." 

Justly  characterizing  Bushnell  as  a  preacher  and 
not  a  system-maker,  one  whose  influence  upon  the- 
ology was  that  of  the  critic  who  puts  its  great  doc- 
trines to  the  test  of  practical  application  in  the  life 
of  the  individual  and  the  Church,  Hunger  pointed 


208    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

out  how  the  wide  and  compelling  influence  Bushnell 
had  exerted  was  felt  in  four  main  directions : 

1.  Christian  nurture  as  presented  by  him  involved 
a  new  and  more  catholic  theory  of  the  Church.  The 
American  churches,  long  carried  away  on  the  flood- 
tide  of  revivalism,  were  brought  again  within  view  of 
the  great  principle  of  historic  continuity,  the  prin- 
ciple that  had  once  tempted  Munger  himself  to  follow 
his  friend  Mulford's  example  and  accept  Episcopal 
orders  for  the  sake  of  building  his  life-work  into  an 
institution  conscious  of  its  organic  relation  to  the 
apostolic  past. 

2.  Bushnell  convicted  the  New  England  the- 
ology, in  its  elaboration  of  a  Calvinistic  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  of  dealing  with  words  rather  than  reali- 
ties. "He  had  no  following  as  to  his  own  specific 
view,  but  he  drew  the  mind  of  the  Church  away  from 
hard  and  unauthorized  views  of  the  Deity,  and  led  it 
still  to  say  with  less  analysis,  but  more  of  faith,  'I 
believe  in  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.'  " 

3.  In  "Nature  and  the  Supernatural,"  "the 
greatest  of  his  works,"  Bushnell  had  put  to  the  test  of 
life  the  earlier  conception  of  the  transcendence  of 
God,  a  conception  verging  on  Deism.  In  the  conflict 
forced  upon  the  Church  by  the  retention  of  this  idea 
of  a  God  at  variance  with  nature,  in  the  midst  of  an 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  209 

age  just  awakened  by  physical  science  to  an  appre- 
ciation of  the  universal  reign  of  law,  Bushnell  paved 
the  way  for  a  doctrine  of  immanence  less  open  to 
objection  from  the  physicists. 

Former  theories  had  well  nigh  driven  God  out  of  His 
own  world,  and  into  the  corner  of  a  few  centuries  called 
Biblical;  but  this  great  teacher  showed  us  Him  who  had 
hitherto  worked  as  still  working — now,  and  here,  and  all 
about  us — the  order  of  nature  and  the  order  of  miracle  pass- 
ing into  each  other,  different  aspects  of  the  same  ever-acting 
energy. 

Bushnell  defined  the  supernatural  as  the  personal 
or  spiritual,  and  reduced  theistic  transcendence  to  a 
parallel  with  the  transcendence  of  mind  over  matter. 

4s.  The  same  indictment  framed  against  the 
logomachy  of  the  theologians  in  dealing  with  the 
Trinity  was  urged  by  Bushnell  against  the  prevailing- 
forensic  and  juridical  views  of  the  Atonement. 
Bushnell  took  everything  to  the  test  of  life  and 
reality.  Language  for  him  was  the  servant,  not  the 
master  of  thought;  and  even  canonized  thought,  to 
win  acceptance,  must  prove  its  applicability  to  life. 
Thus  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  became  again 
what  it  had  been  in  its  first  formulation,  an  attempt 
to  explain  the  function  of  unmerited  suffering. 
Bushnell's  answer  laid  hold  of  its  observed  effect  in 


210    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

the  moral  realm ;  a  return  from  logic  to  reality,  from 
deductive  theory  to  induction  from  fact. 

The  summing  up  described  the  power  of  Bushnell's 
personality,  a  providential  influence  in  crises  that 
else  might  have  been  disastrous  to  the  Church.  His 
work  was  done,  like  that  of  all  the  prophets,  in  face 
of  persecution,  and  by  the  force  of  gifts  which  were 
preeminently  gifts  neither  of  scholar  nor  thinker,  but 
of  the  preacher.  His  oratory  had  the  qualities  of 
poet  and  prophet  in  one,  a  style  rising  to  sublimity 
by  its  beauty  of  diction  and  nobility  of  sentiment. 
Those  who  heard  him  never  forgot  the  impression  of 
the  man  as  a  seer  and  poet  of  God.  His  readers — 
and  only  Robertson  of  Brighton  among  preachers 
had  a  wider  circle — found  his  imagination  a  door 
opened  to  the  unseen  world. 

The  preacher  kindling  to  his  theme,  inspired  by  the 
thought  of  the  departed  leader  who  more  than  any 
other  had  filled  his  ideal,  pictured  unconsciously  the 
issues  of  his  own  life.  Summing  up  the  work  of 
Bushnell  he  summed  up  his  own;  for  this  was  the 
ideal  toward  which  he  had  tended  from  the  very  first : 

Such  a  man  was  sorely  needed;  he  came  and  did  his  work 
well.  His  influence  is  not  easily  measured  or  traced,  just 
because  it  is  so  high  and  fine ;  but  also  because  it  is  such 
it  is  everywhere  amongst  us — here  in  California,  where  he 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  211 

spent  two  busy  years,  and  all  over  the  land — helping  parents 
in  the  Christian  nurture  of  their  children,  quickening  the 
preacher,  quieting  the  doubts  of  the  skeptical,  assuring  the 
conscience-stricken  that  their  Savior  came  not  to  condemn, 
but  to  save,  and  persuading  all  that  God  is  yet  present  in 
his  own  world,  still  working  in  nature  and  in  the  souls  of 
men  by  law  which  is  gracious,  and  by  grace  which  is  law. 

The  sermon  was  printed  in  The  Pacific  and  found 
its  way  back  to  New  England.  It  was  not  long 
before  men  were  looking  in  the  far-off  Santa  Clara 
Valley  for  one  on  whom  the  mantle  of  Elijah  might 
seem  to  have  fallen.  From  East  Hartford,  just 
across  the  Connecticut  River  from  Bushnell's  home, 
came  within  a  few  weeks  an  invitation  to  take  the 
charge  of  a  pastorless  church.  Munger,  as  we  know, 
was  eager  to  return.  His  health,  and  that  of  his  wife, 
was  now  restored.  He  was  fully  conscious  that  his 
best  work  could  only  be  done  in  the  home  of  his 
fathers,  where  Bushnell  had  opened  a  great  door  and 
effectual,  albeit  there  were  many  adversaries.  The 
call  from  East  Hartford  was  promptly  accepted,  but 
as  a  temporary  engagement,  each  side  reserving  the 
right  to  terminate  it  at  the  end  of  six  months,  a  period 
subsequentty  extended  to  nine. 

The  church  in  San  Jose  could  be  left  free  from 
debt  and  in  flourishing  condition,  but  one  more  ser- 


212    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

vice  remained  to  be  rendered  before  forsaking  Cali- 
fornia. Pacific  Theological  Seminary  in  Oakland 
had  then  but  recently  begun  its  career,  growing  up 
under  the  shelter  of  the  great  state  university,  whose 
magnificent  site  had  been  chosen  by  Bushnell  himself. 
It  looks  out  over  the  great  bay  and  city  and  far 
beyond  between  the  pillars  of  the  Golden  Gate  to 
the  wide  Pacific.  INIunger  was  asked  to  give  the 
annual  address  at  the  seminary  commencement  in 
May,  1876,  and  chose  for  his  subject  "The  Immor- 
tality of  the  Soul." 

In  this  second  instance  also  the  address  prepared 
for  a  specific  occasion  became  the  nucleus  a  few  years 
later  of  an  important  volume,  "The  Freedom  of 
Faith."  Those  who  read  the  two  addresses  as 
slightly  modified  in  the  volumes  cited  will  need  no 
other  proof  that  INIunger's  productive  vigor  of  mind 
was  fully  restored.  The  originals  give  abundant 
evidence  of  the  conscientious  care  and  industry  given 
to  their  preparation. 

It  was  the  current  teaching  of  physical  science  that 
nature,  while  "careful  of  the  type,"  displayed  no 
interest  in  the  individual ;  and  concomitantly  that  the 
visible  universe  is  inexorably  limited  in  duration,  a 
running  down  affair.  Will  there,  then,  in  the  end  be 
something  or  nothing?     Such  was  the  question  pro- 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  213 

pounded  in  the  opening  paragraphs  of  the  address. 
The  inferiority  on  the  score  of  satisfaction  to  mind 
and  heart  of  a  mere  physical  philosophy  of  life,  to  a 
philosophy  which  rests  upon  the  sense  of  worth  in 
personality,  was  thus  made  obvious. 

The  present  relation  of  science  to  immortality  may  be 
considered  indirectly  favorable  to  the  doctrine,  by  reaction 
from  its  own  triumphs.  It  remands  us  with  emphasis  to 
the  domain  of  the  spiritual  nature  for  light  which  it  has 
demonstrated  to  itself  that  it  cannot  find. 

The  speaker  next  admitted  the  necessity  to  any 
doctrine  of  individual  immortality  of  a  persistence  of 
the  personal  consciousness  after  death.  Equally 
indispensable  would  be  an  environment  by  relation  to 
which  the  personal  consciousness  could  maintain 
itself.  For  continuity  of  vital  force  alone  is  a 
mockery.  It  fulfils  the  promise  of  immortality  to  the 
ear  and  breaks  it  to  the  hope.  So,  too,  does  mere 
absorption  into  the  Nirvana  of  a  limitless,  undiffer- 
entiated ocean  of  being.  On  the  other  hand  the 
speaker  rejected  the  idea  of  an  invisible  material 
world  as  presented  in  "that  well-intentioned  but  most 
unsatisfactory  book,  'The  Unseen  Universe,'  "  and 
demanded  as  the  soul's  needful  environment  beyond 
the  material  not  another  kind  of  matter,  nor  another 


214    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

aspect  of  matter,  but  "something  other  than  matter," 
for  which  we  have  no  other  term  than  "spirit."  "If  I 
have  a  sort  of  personahtj^  in  the  physical  world,  have 
I  not  also  a  personality  in  God?"  It  is  as  reasonable 
for  the  metaphysician  to  posit  this  indispensable 
medium  and  condition  of  personal  consciousness,  he 
contended,  as  for  the  physicist  to  posit  the  himinifer- 
ous  ether  declaring  it  to  be  the  indispensable  medium 
of  light. 

With  the  possibility  granted  of  a  relation  between 
spirit  and  spirit,  requiring  no  physical  medium,  the 
speaker  turned  to  his  final  plea,  a  positive  basis  for 
belief  in  the  persistence  of  individual  personality; 
and  here  he  found  himself  on  familiar  ground,  the 
testimony  of  the  poets,  Tennyson,  Wordsworth,  and 
Blanco  White.  Besides  the  aspirations  these  voice 
in  song,  there  are  the  convictions  of  the  world's  mas- 
ter-minds, impartially  seeldng  the  truth,  Plato, 
Cicero,  Bacon,  Montesquieu,  Butler,  Kant,  and 
Goethe.  Moreover  the  universe  in  its  very  structure 
exemplifies  the  saying,  "He  that  asks,  receives." 
Want  meets  supply;  and  intellect  and  emotion  alike 
reach  out  after  endless  continuance.  This  is  seen  to 
be  indispensable  to  the  rounding  out  of  man's  nature 
as  he  perceives  its  latent  possibilities,  its  dimly  out- 
lined ideals.    And  yet  the  hope  of  immortality  must 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  215 

remain  a  hope  only.  It  must  remain  where  Christ 
and  the  Scriptures  have  placed  it,  in  the  domain  not 
of  knowledge  but  of  faith.  The  rational  sense  of 
immortality  is  achieved  by  progressive  apprehension 
of  the  soul's  relation  to  God.  The  eternal  life  which 
Christ  offers  is  "not  made  up  of  a  succession  of  end- 
less ages,  though  it  involves  this,"  it  is  participation 
in  the  infinitude  and  perfectness  of  God. 

The  period  of  rest  and  recuperation  in  California 
came  to  an  appropriate  close  with  a  week's  visit  to  the 
Valley  of  the  Yosemite.  Communion  with  nature 
in  its  sublimest  aspects  was  followed  by  farewells  to 
the  church  in  San  Jose,^  and  the  long  journey  east. 
Before  beginning  ministerial  work  at  East  Hartford 
a  visit  was  made  also  to  the  Centennial  Exposition 
in  Philadelphia. 

Hunger's  proximity  to  Hartford  brought  him 
more  than  one  "delightful  friendship"  from  the 
group  of  ministers  which  included  names  such  as 
Twichell,  Burton,  and  Parker.  Potwin,  Hunger's 
classmate,  was  also  of  the  number. 

Parish  cares  were  resumed  with  customary  fidelity, 

3  The  farewell  discourse  preached  on  his  leave-taking  was  not  the 
last  of  Hunger's  relations  with  the  church  in  San  Jose.  At  the  fifteenth 
anniversary  of  its  founding  the  church  received  from  him  a  letter  read 
at  the  anniversary  to  recall  the  days  when,  under  his  leadership,  they 
had  struggled  up  into  independent  life  and  vigor. 


216    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

and  more  than  customary  bodily  and  mental  vigor. 
But  the  direction  of  the  church's  policy  rested  in  the 
hands  of  reactionaries  incapable  of  sympathizing 
with  IMunger's  ideals.  To  him  the  long  bridge  from 
the  city  of  Bushnell  to  East  Hartford  measured 
"fully  one  hundred  years  across."  The  difference 
between  himself  and  these  good  men  might  doubtless 
have  been  overcome;  but  the  engagement  had  been 
temporary  and  tentative  from  the  start;  other  fields 
were  offering  more  inviting  opportunit}'^  of  effective 
service,  and  under  such  circumstances  the  long  effort 
for  composure  of  differences  would  have  been  a  mis- 
take of  judgment.  Munger  had  come  back  to  New 
Efngland  for  the  service  of  all  the  churches,  and 
opportunity  soon  came  through  the  agency  of  his 
friend,  Jenkins,  then  settled  in  Pittsfield,  ]Mass. 

A  very  different  atmosphere  from  that  of  East 
Hartford  pervaded  the  Congregational  Church  in 
North  Adams,  Mass.,  which  in  the  fall  of  1877  sent 
in  its  call  to  Munger  to  take  the  place  of  its  ex-pastor. 
Rev.  Lewellyn  Pratt,  recently  removed  to  a  profes- 
sorship in  the  neighboring  Williams  College.  North 
Adams  is  an  industrial  town  of  sturdy  and  vigorous 
type,  under  the  shadow  of  Greylock,  and  manifests 
in  its  whole  life  that  virility  which  characterizes 
the    old-time    population    of    the    Berkshire    Hills. 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  217 

Dr.  Pratt's  predecessor,  the  young  clergyman  who, 
after  a  ministry  in  North  Adams  of  five  years'  dura- 
tion, had  taken  up  the  work  of  rehgious  editor  of  the 
New  York  Independent,  soon  resuming  the  pastor- 
ate in  the  city  of  Springfield,  had  been  no  other  than 
Washington  Gladden,  clarum  et  venerahile  nomen. 
The  contrast  may  well  be  imagined  between  the 
church  in  North  Adams  as  Gladden  and  Pratt  had 
left  it,  and  the  church  in  East  Hartford  as  Munger 
had  found  it.  A  brief  extract  from  the  sermon 
preached  on  its  seventy-fifth  anniversary  will  suffice 
to  describe  its  condition.  Gladden,  it  declares,  was 
no  mere  defender  of  a  traditional  system  of  theology 
like  most  of  the  men  of  his  day. 

Horace  Bushnell  had  saved  him  for  the  ministry  when 
he  was  in  revolt  against  the  unhuman  character  of  much  of 
the  current  theology. 

What  Gladden's  theology  was  may  be  inferred 
from  his  writings.  The  character  of  his  service  as  a 
pastor  may  be  inferred  from  his  noble  hymn  of  ser- 
vice, "O  Master,  let  me  walk  with  thee."  But  we 
have  explicit  testimony: 

.  .  .  As  a  business  man  Dr.  Gladden  would  have  been  a 
chief  among  his  fellows,  and  as  the  administrator  of  a  parish 
no  man  could  surpass  him.     Through  his  efforts  the  parish 


218    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

was  divided  into  districts.  Sub-pastors  were  appointed  in 
these  districts,  district  meetings  were  held,  the  country  about 
reached,  a  canvass  brought  up  the  missionary  offerings  from 
practically  nothing  to  a  generous  figure.  All  this  was 
accomplished  easily  by  the  church  when  it  was  paying  twice 
as  much  for  its  home  expenses  as  it  ever  had  before. 

Here  was  a  field  congenial  indeed.  It  was  not 
large  or  rich;  but  it  was  vital  and  progressive,  and 
Hunger  gladly  accepted  the  opportunity.  One 
great  obstacle,  however,  remained  to  be  surmounted; 
and  to  surmount  it  meant  a  service  to  no  merely 
local  communit}^  but  to  the  Church  catholic.  JNIunger 
responded  to  a  call  to  liberate  the  ancient  church  of 
New  England  from  a  yoke  of  traditional  authority 
which,  little  by  little,  they  had  unwittingh^  fastened 
upon  their  necks. 

Orthodoxy  among  the  Congregationalists  of  the 
Berkshire  Hills  was  no  mean  inheritance.  The  tide 
of  Unitarian  liberalism  which  had  engulfed  Eastern 
Massachusetts  had  encountered  here  unlooked-for 
opposition.  The  strong  conservatism  of  mingled 
Scotch  and  New  England  blood  of  these  industrial 
towns  formed  a  barrier  like  the  granite  peaks  which 
surrounded  them.  Reaction  from  laxity  had  carried 
many  Congregational  churches  to  the  opposite  ex- 
treme.   We  have  referred  to  the  ancient  principle  of 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  219 

Congregationalism  which  leaves  to  the  individual, 
whether  a  candidate  for  membership  only,  or  for  the 
office  of  pastor  and  teacher,  the  formulation  for  him- 
self of  his  own  statement  of  religious  experience  and 
doctrinal  conviction,  and  to  the  church  or  its  repre- 
sentatives the  decision  on  the  combined  evidence  of 
profession  and  life.  Like  the  Eliot  Church  in  Law- 
rence, the  church  in  North  Adams  had  violated  this 
principle.  It  had  yielded  to  similar  well-meaning 
innovations.  In  1833  it  had  embodied  in  its  covenant 
a  pledge  of  total  abstinence.  This  was  removed  in  a 
revision  of  the  creed  and  covenant  during  the  pas- 
torate of  Mr.  Gladden.  But  the  region  was  not  yet 
abreast  of  Gladden's  catholic  and  progressive  spirit. 
As  a  whole  it  was  still  affected  by  the  tendency  to 
narrowness  and  sectarianism  prevalent  in  the 
churches  which,  since  the  time  of  the  Unitarian 
movement,  had  begun  to  take  to  themselves  the  dis- 
tinctive title  of  "Trinitarian"  or  "Orthodox." 
Liberalism  in  Massachusetts  took  mainly  the  form  of 
protest  against  the  somewhat  mechanical  and  wooden 
Calvinistic  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  In  the  adjoining 
State  of  Connecticut,  with  which  the  Berkshire  popu- 
lation has  always  had  closer  relations  in  many  ways, 
the  protest  affected  a  more  practical  doctrine  of  the 
creed,  the  Calvinistic  doctrine  of  retribution.     The 


220     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Universalists,  who  in  Connecticut  parallel  the  move- 
ment of  the  Unitarians  in  Massachusetts,  revolted 
against  this  mechanical  conception  of  future  punish- 
ment, and  their  open  revolt  was  only  symptomatic  of 
more  widespread  dissatisfaction.  The  doctrine  of 
eternal  torment  for  the  unregenerate,  sometimes  still 
heard  from  the  pulpit,  had  become  intolerable.  Dis- 
satisfaction evoked  attempts  at  ecclesiastical  disci- 
pline, and  the  Congregational  polity  was  again  put 
to  the  test.  Just  at  the  time  when  Hunger's  prepa- 
rations were  being  made  for  installation  as  pastor  of 
the  church  in  North  Adams,  whose  call  he  had 
accepted  September  21,  1877,  a  concrete  case  brought 
matters  to  an  issue.  This  case  was  the  refusal  of  a 
council  to  approve  the  installation  of  the  Rev.  Jas.  F. 
Merriam,  called  to  be  pastor  of  the  church  in  Indian 
Orchard,  Mass.  The  refusal  was  avowedly  because 
of  his  acknowledgment  of  views  incompatible  with 
the  prevalent  stricter  Calvinism  on  the  subject  of 
eternal  punishment.  This  refusal  was  registered  on 
November  7,  1877.  JNIr.  Merriam's  personal  Chris- 
tian character  and  record  of  ability  and  faithfulness 
in  ministerial  service  were  admitted.  The  doctrinal 
convictions  for  the  holding  of  which  he  was  con- 
sidered unfit  for  the  Congregational  ministry  were 
expressed  in  substance  as  follows: 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  221 

( 1 )  That  the  Scriptures  do  not  clearly  teach  the  eternal 
punishment  of  those  who  die  unregenerate ;  and  (2)  that  if 
they  do,  that  punishment  is  annihilation.* 

The  Indian  Orchard  Church  exercised  the  reserved 
right  of  Congregational  churches,  and  proceeded  to 
ordain  and  install  Mr.  Merriam,  thereby  sacrificing, 
of  course,  its  standing  in  Congregational  fellowship. 
As  Mr.  Merriam  was  a  capable  and  worthy  minister 
who  served  the  church  well,  that  particular  organiza- 
tion suffered  little,  if  at  all,  from  the  disapproval  of 
its  yoke- fellows;  but  Congregationalism  as  a  whole 
had  suffered  a  wound  in  its  most  vital  principle,  the 
principle  of  individual  liberty  and  progressive  devel- 
opment, limited  only  by  loyalty  to  the  historic  faith 
as  exhibited  in  the  Scriptures.  Munger  was  doctrin- 
ally  by  no  means  of  the  same  way  of  thinking  as 
Merriam.  The  doctrines  of  annihilation  or  "condi- 
tional immortality"  and  "restorationism,"  or  the  ulti- 
mate return  of  every  soul  to  truth  and  right,  which 
Merriam  had  professed,  he  distinctly  repudiated. 
But  the  disapproval  of  an  otherwise  well-qualified 
minister  for  venturing  to  hold  opinions  which  were 
not  even  asserted  to  be  incompatible  with  a  genuine 
Christian  faith,  but  only  opposed  to  the  views  of  a 

4  Extract  from  The  Congregationalist  of  December  26,  1877,  editorial, 
"The  North  Adams  InstaUation." 


222    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

temporary  majority  in  the  "denomination,"  was  an 
invasion  of  Christian  liberty  such  as  every  minister 
loyal  to  the  principles  of  the  ancient  New  England 
churches  must  feel  it  a  duty  to  resist.  If  the  mere 
questioning  of  the  Calvinistic  hell,  with  its  dogma 
of  "endless  suffering  arbitrarily  inflicted  as  a  vindica- 
tion of  the  Divine  government"  upon  the  great 
masses  of  mankind  who  had  never  consciously  re- 
jected the  means  of  grace,  was  henceforth  to  be 
counted  an  offense  punishable  by  exclusion  from  the 
fellowship  of  the  ministry  and  the  churches,  Con- 
gregationalism could  no  longer  be  regarded  as  a 
principle  of  liberty  and  progress.  It  had  become 
merely  another  sect,  whose  particular  stripe  of  belief 
would  be  determined  by  the  votes  of  intolerant  ma- 
jorities and  the  secession  of  impatient  minorities. 
Hunger  rightly  judged  that  independency  had  come 
to  a  parting  of  the  ways.  The  action  of  the  Indian 
Orchard  Coimcil  represented  the  culmination  of  the 
wave  of  reaction  set  in  motion  by  the  Unitarian 
schism.  From  that  time  forward  certain  leaders  of 
"orthodoxy,"  reviving  the  theory  evoked  by  the 
schisms  of  the  seventeenth  century  that  Congrega- 
tionalism is  a  sect  among  the  sects,  not  a  principle  in 
the  Church  catholic,  had  labored  to  formulate  the 
creed  of  this  new  sect,  and  to  rectify  and  fortify  it 


THE  IMANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  223 

with  appropriate  penalties  of  exclusion  from  the 
"denomination."  The  ancient  principle:  Scripture 
the  interpreter  of  what  is  "historic"  was  inverted.  It 
became:  The  "historic"  (meaning  by  the  term  accu- 
mulated dogma)  must  be  the  interpreter  of  Scrip- 
ture. Those  who  could  not  subscribe  to  "our"  creed 
were  invited  to  join  some  other  sect.  The  fathers  of 
Congregationalism  had  considered  it  to  be  part  of  the 
calling  of  a  clergyman  to  seek  for  that  "new  light 
from  the  Scriptures"  which  Robinson  had  sought, 
and  to  proclaim  it,  even  if  it  involved  setting  aside 
"historic"  interpretations  as  old  as  Calvin  or  Augus- 
tine. Disloyalty  to  fundamental  Christian  truth 
(whereof  Scripture  as  interpreted  bj^  the  living 
brotherhood  determined  the  limits)  would  result  on 
the  old  principles,  after  regular  and  orderlj^  proce- 
dure to  determine  the  fact,  in  the  withdrawal  of  min- 
isterial fellowship  and  recognition.  The  new  feature 
of  the  ]Merriam  case  was  that  there  was  no  pretense 
of  the  candidate's  unfitness  for  the  Christian  minis- 
try, nor  for  the  Congregational  ministry  on  other 
than  doctrinal  grounds.  Xeither  was  the  penalty 
proposed  the  ancient  and  logical  penalty  of  deposi- 
tion from  the  recognized  ministry.  Ministers  of 
JNIerriam's  way  of  thinking,  or  otherwise  differing 
from  the  creedal  standards,  were  not  to  be  hence- 


224    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

forth  denied  the  privilege  of  ministering  to  the 
Church  cathohc.  Their  character  and  ability  being 
unquestioned  they  might  be,  and  they  were,  openly 
advised  to  seek  an  opening  with  the  Universalists,  or 
the  Unitarians.  They  might  be  worthy  to  minister 
to  Christ's  church,  but  not  to  "our"  church.  It  was 
the  culmination  of  the  sect  ideal.  With  the  uncon- 
scious egotism  of  a  conservative  majority,  the  volun- 
teer defenders  of  the  faith  took  up  a  parallel  to  the 
words  of  Amaziah,  the  priest,  to  Amos :  "O  thou  seer, 
go,  flee  thee  away  into  the  land  of  Judah,  and  there 
eat  bread,  and  prophesy  there:  but  prophesy  not 
again  any  more  at  Bethel :  for  it  is  a  royal  sanctuary, 
and  the  king's  residence." 

The  effort  which  had  failed  to  carry  its  point  by 
direct  assault  in  the  case  of  Bushnell,  when  it  sought 
his  deposition  from  the  Christian  ministry,  as  a  here- 
tic formally  adjudged  disloyal  to  the  faith  set  forth  in 
Scripture,  was  now  apparently  on  the  point  of  secur- 
ing its  ends  by  indirection.  It  had  been  found  com- 
paratively easy  to  convict  a  brother  minister  of 
unfitness  to  serve  "our  denomination."  The  penalty 
for  the  individual  would  not  be  serious ;  and  the  result 
would  be  equally  effective  in  ridding  the  Congrega- 
tional sect  of  disturbers  of  the  peace.  One  of  the  dis- 
guised blessings  of  sectarianism,  a  "soul  of  goodness 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  225 

in  things  evil,"  was  thus  illustrated — divine  provi- 
dence seemed  to  have  designed  the  semi-'' evangelicaV* 
sects  as  catch-alls  for  those  not  heretical  enough  for 
everlasting  damnation,  but  too  heretical  for  the  elect 
of  the  elect. 

As  often  happens,  the  real  issue,  which  we  have 
thus  attempted  to  define,  was  something  far  larger 
than  that  over  which  the  opening  battle  was  joined. 
The  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment  of  the  unre- 
generate  was  the  obvious  weak  point  of  Calvinism. 
The  New  England  theologians  had  endeavored  to 
"amend"  it  with  greater  regard  for  logical  consist- 
ency than  for  the  observed  phenomena  of  religious 
psychology  and  experience.  One  of  the  earlier 
symptoms  of  their  failure  had  been  the  growth  of 
Methodism.  Arminius  triumphed  over  Calvin. 
Later  schisms  proved  still  more  conclusively  that  the 
elasticity  of  Congregational  polity  was  not  equal  to 
the  strain  of  doctrinal  growth.  In  Massachusetts 
there  was  revolt  of  the  "liberals"  against  the  Calvin- 
istic  interpretation  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  In 
Connecticut  the  effort  to  condemn  Bushnell  as  a  Uni- 
tarian narrowly  failed.  But  on  the  score  of  the  Cal- 
vinistic  doctrine  of  election  and  retribution,  there  was 
equal  dissatisfaction  on  one  side,  and  equal  resort  on 
the  other  to  the  idea  of  Congregationalism  as  a  sect. 


226  THEODORE  THORNTON  IMUNGER 

Universalism  became  in  Connecticut,  as  we  have  seen, 
what  Unitarianism  had  been  in  Massachusetts.  Thus, 
while  tlie  question  at  Indian  Orchard  seemed  to 
involve  no  more  than  the  particular  doctrines  of  con- 
ditional immortality  and  restorationism,  in  reality 
Congregational  polity  and  the  doctrine  of  the 
authority  of  Scripture,  were  at  stake.  Was  the  his- 
tory of  progressive  disruption  which  had  reduced  the 
New  England  churches  from  a  condition  of  compre- 
hensive catholicity  to  that  of  a  minor  "denomination" 
to  be  continued?  Was  Congregationalism  to  cease  as 
a  principle  of  unity  in  diversity,  a  principle  of  "De- 
mocracy in  the  Church,"  and  to  become  a  sect  among 
the  sects,  progressively  narrowing  itself  down  as  the 
denominational  creed  received  closer  and  closer  defi- 
nition against  rivals?  Such  would  be  the  inevitable 
result,  if  the  precedent  established  by  the  Indian 
Orchard  Council  were  accepted.  Was  Scripture  to 
be  a  refuge,  as  heretofore,  against  the  despotism  of 
traditional  dogmas?  Was  it  still  to  be  "its  own  inter- 
preter" and  not  interpreted  by  them?  If  so,  it  would 
need  sooner  or  later  to  be  shown  that  on  the  state- 
ment of  Scripture  itself  its  authority  does  not  lie  in 
claims  of  infallibility,  whether  put  forth  by  itself,  or 
by  others  in  its  behalf;  but  only  in  the  witness  it 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  227 

bears,  a  witness  to  the  eternally  living  Word,  the  life 
of  God  in  man,  the  life  of  man  in  God. 

The  issues  thus  defined  as  the  issues  of  the  Mer- 
riam  case  were  of  course  not  yet  clearly  perceived. 
They  were  partially  apprehended,  one  here,  the  other 
there,  as  men  realized  whither  the  tendencies  of  the 
time  were  carrying  them.  And  to  men  who,  like 
Munger,  had  responded  to  the  spirit  of  Bushnell,  his 
intense  loyalty  to  reality,  his  protest  against  mere 
logomachy,  his  demand  for  room  to  think  new 
thoughts  of  God,  his  protest  against  a  doctrine  of 
the  human  will  untrue  to  real  religious  experience 
and  fatal  to  Christian  nurture,  the  Indian  Orchard 
decision  was  a  challenge.  Munger  instinctively  took 
up  the  mantle  of  Bushnell  and  stood  for  the  right  to 
advance;  for  catholicity  and  continuity,  not  outside 
but  within  the  Puritan  faith ;  not  by  limitation  under 
authority  of  the  Scripture,  like  the  scribes,  but  by 
enlargement  through  its  "witness,"  like  the  Son  of 
God.  At  once  he  determined  to  make  his  statement 
of  belief  at  North  Adams  so  clear  and  explicit  that 
there  could  be  no  mistaking  the  issue.  The  council 
should  include  names  of  such  weight  and  impartiality 
as  would  make  its  decision  unmistakably  representa- 
tive. Should  it  decide  against  him  he  was  prepared, 
if  need  be,  to  leave  the  ministry  and  engage  in  fruit- 


228    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

farming  in  California,  realizing  that  continuance 
with  the  church  at  North  Adams,  ready  as  it  doubt- 
less would  be  to  set  the  advice  of  its  council  at 
defiance,  would  probably  lead  to  denominational 
disruption;  and  of  this  he  did  not  wish  to  be  the 
occasion,  however  much  others  might  be  the  cause. 

The  eventful  council  gathered  on  December  11, 
1877,  and  was  presided  over  by  the  venerable 
ex-president  of  Williams  College,  Rev.  Mark  Hop- 
kins. Among  its  more  distinguished  members  were 
President  Noah  Porter  of  Yale,  Rev.  Washington 
Gladden,  then  of  Springfield,  and  Rev.  Samuel  G. 
Buckingham  of  the  same  city,  brother  of  the  "war 
governor."  There  had  been  no  picking  and  choosing 
of  the  council.  It  included  the  neighboring  churches. 
Among  these  was  the  Pittsfield  First  Church,  whose 
pastor  was  Hunger's  old  friend  and  classmate, 
"Jack"  Jenkins.  The  "personally  invited"  members 
included  also  Rev.  Geo.  A.  Jackson  of  Southbridge, 
who  several  years  before  had  been  refused  ordination 
in  North  Adams  for  holding  views  similar  to  those 
Hunger  himself  entertained.  The  rest  were  repre- 
sentative men  from  the  vicinity.  Hunger  could  be 
confident  of  a  fair  hearing  of  the  case. 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  the  candidate  for  instal- 
lation had  prepared  his  statement  with  utmost  care. 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  229 

The  examination  of  his  credentials  and  record  and  of 
the  action  of  the  church  was  of  course  a  mere  formal- 
ity, but  when  his  statement  of  religious  conviction 
and  doctrine  was  called  for  all  minds  were  tense  with 
expectation;  for  the  Indian  Orchard  case  was  too 
recent  and  too  notorious,  and  Munger's  liberal  pro- 
clivities too  well  known,  to  leave  much  room  for  doubt 
that  he  would  at  least  make  clear  his  dissent  from  its 
decision.  His  statement  was  prefaced  by  an  explicit 
declaration  of  his  acceptance  of  the  creed  of  the 
North  Adams  Church,  substantially  identical  with 
the  Burial  Hill  Confession;  and  this  acceptance  was 
both  reenforced  and  made  more  general  by  a  declara- 
tion of  acceptance  of  the  Apostles'  and  the  Nicene 
creeds,  the  historic  expressions  of  the  common  faith. 
Bushnell  had  discovered  that  in  the  multitude  of 
creeds  there  is  liberty;  because  simultaneous  accep- 
tance of  many  implies  limitation  of  the  assent  to  that 
essence  of  doctrine  wherein  all  agree.^  Next  fol- 
lowed a  long  and  carefully  written  statement  of  the 
preacher's  intended  method  of  meeting  certain  de- 
bated questions  when  raised,  many  of  these  being,  as 
he  distinctly  avowed,  more  wisely  left  dormant  until 

5  Were  authoritative  doctrine  restricted  in  the  church  of  Rome  in 
reality  as  it  is  in  profession  to  quod  semper,  quod  ubique,  quod  ab 
omnibus,  that  church  would  be  the  freest  under  heaven. 


230    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

enquirers  should  seek  such  further  light  as  the  teacher 
might  feel  able  to  give.  Under  this  head  of  questions 
subject  to  "pedagogic  reserve"  fell  certain  disputed 
corollaries  of  the  great  principle  of  retribution.  The 
principle  itself  was  expressed  in  the  creeds  the 
speaker  had  already  emphatically  endorsed.  Its 
scriptural  essence  was  this:  "Whatsoever  a  man 
soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap."  This  was  the  preach- 
er's message  of  warning.  Under  it  ^Munger  declared 
that  he  "summarized  his  entire  thinking."  On  the 
other  hand  his  faith  in  the  inexhaustible  mercy  of  the 
God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  made  it  to 
him  incredible  that  any  soul  which  at  any  time,  by  any 
means,  could  be  led  to  repentance,  would  not  be  so 
led,  and  repenting  be  forgiven.  A  point  there 
seemed  to  be  in  the  psychological  development  of  the 
free-agent  when  character  hardens  into  a  fixity  of 
habit  unchangeable  for  human  powers.  But  nothing 
either  in  Scripture  or  experience  warrants  our  mak- 
ing that  point  coincident  with  the  hour  of  death.  The 
object  of  divine  retribution  is  purely  beneficent. 
Whatever  besides  the  sinner's  own  advantage  it  may 
have  in  view,  it  does  not  have  in  view  the  satiation  of 
divine  vindictiveness.  So  far,  then,  as  the  doctrine 
of  eternal  punishment  has  justification  it  rests  on  the 
inalienable  free-agency  of  the  soul  which  can  never 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  231 

be  saved  against  its  will,  not  on  any  relaxation  of  the 
divine  effort  to  save ;  for  this  divine  effort  can  neither 
acquiesce  in  the  soul's  sinful  disposition,  nor  violate 
its  sovereign  freedom  of  choice.  Grace  is  inexhaust- 
ible but  not  irresistible.  Annihilation  being  to  Hun- 
ger's philosophy  inadmissible,  there  remained  here 
an  element  of  truth  in  the  doctrine  of  "eternal  pun- 
ishment." 

But  he  had  "no  sympathy  with  the  theology  supposed  to 
underlie  this  opinion  (endless  punishment),  viz.,  that  endless 
suffering  is  arbitrarily  inflicted  as  a  vindication  of  the 
divine  government." 

He  was  "sure  that  no  soul  that  is  salvable  is  lost," 
but  as  for  the  imsalvable  and  persistent  sinner,  he 
could  only  leave  him  in  that  "outer  darkness"  where 
Scripture  and  the  moral  sense  of  mankind  have  left 
him,  insisting  not  on  the  magnitude  nor  the  duration 
of  his  loss  and  suffering,  but  only,  as  Christ  has  done, 
upon  its  awful  certainty. 

There  were  four  hours  of  suspense  for  Munger  and 
the  church  while  the  council  deliberated  "by  itself." 
"Old  Congregationalism"  (if  we  may  so  designate 
it)  could  disapprove  the  candidate  on  one  or  more 
of  three  grounds  only.  Either  (1)  his  Christian 
character  and  experience  must  be  at  fault;  or  (2)  his 


232     THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

qualifications  as  a  teacher  of  Christian  truth;  or  (3) 
his  competence  to  represent  Congregational  polity. 
It  was  inconceivable  that  men  of  the  type  of  ^lark 
Hopkins,  Noah  Porter,  and  Samuel  G.  Buckingham 
should  admit  a  question  of  ]Munger's  fitness  on  any 
of  these  grounds.  But  there  was  also  present  an 
element  of  unknown  strength,  particularly  among 
the  lay  delegates,  who  had  imbibed  a  newer  concep- 
tion of  Congregationalism,  and  had  very  recently 
given  expression  to  it  in  the  Indian  Orchard  Council, 
some  of  whose  members  were  themselves  now  present. 
To  these  men  too  there  was,  of  course,  no  question 
of  the  candidate's  Christian  character  and  experi- 
ence; but  the  other  two  points  to  be  determined  they 
would  have  phrased  differently.  They  did  not 
regard  themselves  as  judges  of  his  competence  to 
teach  Christian  truth,  but  of  a  something  to  be  de- 
fined as  the  Congregational  variety  of  Christian 
truth.  ^loreover,  loyalty  to  the  principles  of  the 
Congregational  order  of  church  government  did  not 
in  their  eyes  make  a  man  a  Congregationalist.  He 
must  in  addition  interpret  Scripture — which  all  Prot- 
estant churches  make  their  supreme  rule  of  faith  and 
practice — as  successive  generations  of  Congrega- 
tionalists  had  interpreted  it.  This  was  their  concep- 
tion of  "historic"  continuity.     The  line  of  division 


THE  MANTLE  OF  BUSHNELL  233 

was  really,  though  not  consciously,  between  those 
who  considered  Congregationalism  as  a  principle, 
and  those  who  considered  it  as  a  sect.  And  this  time 
the  broader  minds  triumphed.  The  precedent  of 
Indian  Orchard  was  reversed,  and  reversed  without 
a  dissenting  voice!  Several  there  were  who  refused 
to  vote,  after  it  became  apparent  what  the  nature  of 
the  council's  decision  would  be,  as  delegate  after 
delegate  showed  the  impression  made  especially  by 
the  cogent  and  weighty  words  of  President  Noah 
Porter  of  Yale."  Unable  to  shake  off  the  narrower 
view  which  precedent  had  begun  to  fasten  upon  the 
churches,  they  were  unwilling  or  unprepared  to  take 
public  issue  with  some  of  the  most  distinguished 
ecclesiastical  leaders  of  New  England.  Hence  the 
momentous  decision,  manifestly  inconsistent  as  it 
was  with  that  which  in  the  very  same  region  had  so 
shortly  preceded  it,  went  forth  to  the  churches  as 
unanimous. 

Of  course,  the  matter  was  still  far  from  definitive 
settlement.    At  every  ordaining  and  installing  coun- 

6  In  the  "Retrospect  of  His  Ministry,"  Dr.  Hunger  wrote:  "President 
Porter  carried  the  council.  Men  who  had  voted  one  way  in  the  Indian 
Orchard  Council  voted  another  here."  In  the  sermon  preached  on  the 
seventy-fifth  anniversary  of  the  North  Adams  Church  in  1902,  he  adds 
that  President  Porter  "contended  that  the  office  of  a  council  was  not  to 
establish  a  dogma,  but  to  examine  into  the  fitness  of  a  man  to  preach 
the  gospel." 


234    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

cil  for  years  after,  candidates  suspected  of  "liberal" 
tendencies  were  submitted  to  a  fire  of  questions  sug- 
gested by  the  famous  council  at  North  Adams.  Out- 
siders, to  whom  Congregationalism  was  only  one  of 
the  "sects,"  held  up  its  inconsistencies  to  ridicule. 
Insiders,  who  took  no  higher  point  of  view,  sought  to 
meet  the  charge  by  suppressing  views  at  variance 
with  the  "historic"  faith.  The  "historic"  faith  was 
to  be  determined  by  the  resolutions  of  majorities  and 
the  exclusion  of  minorities.  The  North  Adams 
Council  meant  the  opening,  not  the  closing,  of  a 
chapter  in  the  history  of  the  New  England  churches. 
Meantime,  the  church  among  the  Berkshire  Hills  had 
found  its  worthy  pastor,  and  the  pastor  had  found 
his  work. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PASTOR  AND  TEACHER 

North  Adams,  1877-1885 

It  was  a  joyful  people  which  gathered  in  the  North 
Adams  Congregational  Church  on  the  evening  of  the 
council,  Tuesday,  December  11,  1877,  to  participate 
in  the  services  of  installation.  The  sermon  by  Presi- 
dent Porter  of  Yale,  the  charge  to  the  pastor  by  Dr. 
Buckingham  of  Springfield,  the  right  hand  of  fellow- 
ship by  Mr.  Jenkins  of  Pittsfield,  and  the  charge  to 
the  people  bj^  Washington  Gladden,  were  felt  to  have 
a  singular  appropriateness  and  beauty,  enhanced  by 
the  presence,  as  presiding  officer,  of  Dr.  Hopkins.  If 
the  congregation  were  chiefly  glad  because  of  the 
unexpectedly  hearty  confirmation  of  their  choice  of  a 
pastor,  there  were  others  present,  particularly  mem- 
bers of  the  council  which  at  the  close  of  the  services 
would  be  dissolved,  who  fully  realized  that  they  had 
made  history  that  day,  and  were  deeply  glad  for  the 
future  of  libert}^  and  democracy  in  the  church. 

Such  a  beginning  was  in  itself  inspiring.  Munger 
began  his  work  in  North  Adams  conscious  of  fully 


236  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

restored  vigor  and  energ}\  He  was  in  the  prime  of 
his  manhood,  equipped  with  rich  fruits  of  experience 
in  a  varied  ministry.  He  had  never  relaxed  in  the 
systematic  cultivation  of  liis  own  intellectual  and 
rhetorical  powers,  and  they  were  destined  during  the 
eight  years  of  his  ministrj'^  here  to  reach  adequate 
expression.  Both  pen  and  voice  found  occupation  to 
the  limit  of  his  powers.  His  contributions  to  the 
press  redoubled  and  culminated  in  two  remarkably 
successful  volumes.  In  addition,  he  was  in  demand  as 
a  public  speaker.  Andover  Seminar}^  made  him  its 
orator  at  the  graduation  exercises  in  May,  1880,  and 
Bradford  Academy  at  Haverhill  in  June,  1881.  The 
next  year  the  Massachusetts  Sunday  School  Conven- 
tion called  upon  him  for  an  address  of  a  kindred  char- 
acter at  Boston,  and  his  unofficial  participation  in 
the  meetings  of  the  American  Board  and  similar 
denominational  conventions  continued  constant  and 
loyal  as  it  had  ever  been,  his  relatively  small  church 
even  shouldering  the  heavy  responsibility  of  enter- 
taining the  State  General  Association  at  its  annual 
meeting  in  1884,  and  acquitting  itself  with  credit  of 
the  task. 

Nor  was  this  all.  The  work  of  preacher  and  pastor 
in  North  Adams  was  extended  to  the  suburban  com- 
munity of  Blackington,  where  an  undenominational 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  237 

church  was  maintained  by  cooperative  effort  of  the 
Baptist,  Methodist,  and  Congregational  churches  of 
North  Adams.  Munger  preached  and  did  pastoral 
work  with  regularity  and  devotion  for  this  sub-parish 
in  addition  to  his  primary  charge. 

But  his  reestablished  health  proved  equal  to  the 
demand.  The  clear  and  invigorating  air,  the  roman- 
tic scenery  of  the  Berkshire  Hills,  the  congenial  and 
loyal  spirit  of  the  people — all  these  contributed  to  fill 
life  full  of  new  vigor  and  fruitful  service.  A  letter 
written  from  New  Haven  in  September,  1899,  shows 
how  the  refreshment  of  these  days  was  appreciated : 

My  dear  Rose: 

I  am  very  glad  you  and  Elizabeth  are  in  North  Adams, 
and  are  reviving  your  recollections  of  past  years  and  meet- 
ing old  friends.  Our  life  there  was  very  important  to  me 
at  least.  It  was  then  I  really  took  start  in  life — a  rather 
late  beginning,  but  better  than  if  made  before.  In  hardly 
any  other  parish  in  New  England  could  I  have  had  the  peace 
and  the  forbearance  and  the  support  that  were  necessary 
to  protect  me  while  I  was  making  my  way  out  into  the  New 
Theology.  North  Adams  may  claim  not  a  Kttle  share  in 
this,  first  through  Dr.  Gladden,  and  then  through  me. 

In  North  Adams  he  found  "life  and  action." 
"Never  before  nor  since,"  he  later  wrote,  "have  I 
found  such  a  measure  of  it  as  there." 


238    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

Moreover,  the  summer  vaxiations  afforded  recrea- 
tion of  mind  and  body.  Spent  sometimes  by  the  sea, 
in  Cohasset,  or  some  other  resort  on  the  quaint  New 
England  shore,  these  usually  included  a  visit  to  ]Mont- 
rose,  where  the  younger  ^Mungers,  Hezekiah  and 
Edward,  were  conducting  their  tannery.  In  the 
summer  of  1880,  and  often  afterwards,  the  four 
brothers  were  together  there,  greatly  enjoying  one 
another's  company.  The  summer  of  1882  was  a  red- 
letter  date;  for  it  included  a  three  months'  visit  to 
Europe  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Munger  and  their  daughter. 
Rose,  now  sixteen  years  of  age. 

The  North  Adams  anniversary^  address  epitomized 
the  physical  tone  of  this  ministrj^ : 

I  came  here  in  need  of  strength  and  cheer — for  hfe  had 
gone  rather  hard  with  me  in  the  few  previous  years — and  I 
at  once  found  them  and  more  in  the  region  itself.  And,  so 
long  as  1  staid,  there  was  never  an  hour,  when  if  there  was 
weariness  or  anxiety  or  discouragement  or  trouble  of  any 
sort,  I  did  not  find  relief  in  Greylock.  It  did  not  displace 
God,  but  I  learned  by  experience  what  the  old  Hebrew  meant 
when  he  said:  "I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  to  the  hills  from 
whence  cometh  my  help." 

The  close  of  the  first  3^ear  of  work  was  indeed 
marked  by  a  period  of  severe  illness.  Shortly  before 
Christmas,  1878,  the  new  pastor  was  prostrated  by  an 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  239 

attack  of  typhoid  fever,  which  necessitated  the  coming 
of  his  brother  Edward  from  Montrose  to  assist  in  the 
care  of  the  patient.  But  recovery  was  sufficiently 
rapid  for  him  to  be  present  at  the  service  conducted  in 
his  own  church  by  his  friend,  Rev.  George  S.  Mer- 
riam,  on  February  2,  1879,  and  during  the  rest  of  the 
eight  years'  pastorate  he  seemed  to  have  only  the 
greater  vigor  from  the  onslaught  of  the  fever. 

Hunger's  literary  tastes  and  training,  and  more 
especially  the  circumstances  of  his  induction  to  the 
North  Adams  pastorate,  made  it  a  foregone  conclu- 
sion that  his  gifts  as  a  writer  would  find  employment 
to  the  advantage  of  the  church  at  large.  Had  he  not 
been  responsive  to  the  claims  of  New  England  Con- 
gregationalism, considered  not  as  a  sect  but  as  a 
principle,  he  would  not  have  risked  the  most  inviting 
settlement  that  had  yet  been  offered  him  by  challeng- 
ing the  judgment  of  the  installing  council.  But  more 
vivid  than  this  sense  of  duty  to  the  church  at  large  was 
the  consciousness  of  his  obligations  as  minister  of  the 
local  parish.  His  church  was  not  indeed  the  only  one 
in  the  little  town,  nor  even  the  oldest ;  but  it  stood  for 
the  old  New  England  Puritan  institutions;  and  had 
always  led  the  way  in  matters  of  education  and  gen- 
eral welfare.  Even  so,  a  man  conscious  of  literary 
ability,  but  less  disposed  than  Munger  to  subordinate 


240    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

his  own  career  to  the  welfare  of  the  particular  flock 
entrusted  to  him,  might  easily  have  made  mere  parish 
cares  secondary.  The  call  to  "wider  interests"  and 
the  "welfare  of  the  church  at  large"  is  apt  to  drown 
the  plea  of  local  need.  In  point  of  fact,  Munger's 
ministry  in  North  Adams,  while  it  witnessed  the  pub- 
lication of  the  best  appreciated  and  most  widely  cir- 
culated of  his  books,  besides  magazine  articles  and  an 
almost  uninterrupted  stream  of  more  ephemeral  liter- 
ary products,  was  predominantly  and  of  conscientious 
purpose  a  "civic"  ministry. 

For  some  reason — perhaps  because  it  was  divided  into 
two  very  energetic  villages,  each  quite  conscious  of  its  rights 
and  privileges — little  had  been  done  toward  securing  the 
institutions  common  to  New  England  towns  beyond  schools 
and  churches,  with  the  indispensable  fire,  water  and  gas 
companies.  The  village  was  so  large,  and — may  I  say  it — 
so  much  in  evidence  in  the  public  prints,  that  this  lack  had 
become  rather  unpleasantly  notorious.  W«  had  reposed  too 
long  on  our  laurels  of  Chinese  labor  and  the  Hoosac  tunnel.^ 

To  Hunger's  mind  the  most  obvious  lack  was  that 
of  a  public  library,  and  he  soon  bestirred  himself  to 
awaken  public  realization  of  the  need.    On  Thanks- 

1  "Seventy-fifth  Anniversary  First  Church  in  North  Adnms,"  1902, 
p.  28. 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  Ml 

giving  day,  1879,  availing  himself  of  the  New  Eng- 
land custom  which  especially  sets  apart  this  occasion 
for  questions  of  civic  rather  than  primarily  religious 
interest,  he  preached  a  sermon  on  the  subject,  remind- 
ing his  hearers  that  the  $5,000  recently  paid  by  forty 
residents  of  the  village  for  their  several  copies  of  the 
Encycloijcedia  Britannica  would  have  sufficed  to  pur- 
chase 3,000  volumes  and  support  a  public  library  an 
entire  year.  It  was  also  pointed  out  that,  while  the 
high  school  required  a  study  of  English  literature  and 
history,  no  books  on  either  subject  were  accessible  to 
the  scholars.  The  Thanksgiving  sermon  of  1879  was 
the  beginning  of  agitation  and  effort.  It  was  well 
received,  and  met  with  cordial  and  sincere  response; 
but  common  effort  was  required,  so  that  it  was  not 
until  July,  1883,  that  a  committee  of  fifteen,  repre- 
senting every  church,  at  last  convened  for  definite 
action.  Twenty  pledges  of  $100  each  were  secured 
from  individual  citizens  toward  a  guarantee  fund, 
and  within  a  month  a  vacant  store  had  been  hired  on 
the  main  street,  and  a  library  and  reading-room  were 
in  full  operation.  It  contained  about  1,500  volumes, 
and  furnished  the  papers  and  magazines  of  the  day, 
the  whole  in  charge  of  a  salaried  librarian.  Thus, 
through  the  cooperation  of  the  churches  and  citizens, 
on  Hunger's  initiative,   North  Adams   secured  its 


242    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

public  library  without  waiting  for  some  rich  bene- 
factor. A  fair  given  under  the  auspices  of  all  the 
churches  with  the  sympathy  of  the  whole  community 
secured  sufficient  funds  to  maintain  the  new  institu- 
tion until,  having  proved  itself  indispensable,  its 
further  support  was  assumed  by  the  town. 

Another  civic  need  was  that  of  a  hospital,  the  seed 
being  sown  in  this  case  again  by  Hunger's  foresight. 
Early  in  his  ministry  the  very  young  people  of  his 
church — mere  children,  indeed — having  come  to  him 
for  advice  as  to  the  disposal  of  a  sum  of  money,  the 
proceeds  of  a  fair,  he  recommended  that  it  be  placed 
in  the  savings  bank  as  the  nucleus  of  a  fund  for  the 
building  of  a  public  hospital.  The  advice  was  fol- 
lowed. The  fund  was  very  small  but  it  was  prolific. 
The  time  soon  came  when  a  railroad  accident,  a  colli- 
sion in  the  yards,  proved  the  inability  of  mere  private 
accommodations  to  care  for  the  wounded.  This  was 
in  the  fall  of  1882,  and  the  churches  again  took  the 
lead  in  raising  a  hospital  fund.  Munger's  own 
church,  though  not  wealthy,  responded  with  an  imme- 
diate contribution  of  over  $200.  Others  did  their 
part  to  follow  up  the  children's  initiative,  and  the 
building  of  the  hospital  followed  in  due  time. 

The  pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  foimd 
occupation  in  many  such  forms  of  civic  service,  and 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  243 

his  people  proved  that  thej-  had  not  been  schooled  in 
vain  b}^  a  Washington  Gladden.  Temperance  legis- 
lation furnished  knotty  problems  of  civic  duty,  solved 
by  consistent  adherence  to  principles  of  law  and 
virtue,  liberty,  and  toleration.  But  more  vital,  in  the 
pastor's  judgment,  than  civic  service  was  the  culture 
of  Christian  character  in  the  homes  of  his  parish ;  since 
without  successive  generations  of  loyal  and  high- 
minded  citizens  civic  patriotism  and  integrity  itself 
must  die  out.  And  such  home  culture  is  not  a  mere 
matter  of  preaching  sermons.  Gladden's  admirable 
system  of  organizing  the  parish  into  districts  was 
retained,  and  it  worked  effectively;  but  with  all  its 
help  there  was  constant  demand  for  the  pastor's  per- 
sonal calls.  "I  seldom  reached  the  end  of  the  day," 
he  writes,  "without  weariness  as  heavy  as  that  of  any 
laborer  in  the  mills.  But,"  he  adds,  "it  was  a  labor 
of  intense  satisfaction." 

Hunger's  first  book  appeared  as  the  fruit  of  these 
arduous  but  soul-satisfying  labors  for  his  flock,  espe- 
cially its  younger  members.  It  was  a  modest  volume 
of  228  16mo  pages,  containing  nine  addresses  to 
young  men  on  the  themes:  "Purpose,"  "Friends  and 
Companions,"  "Manners,"  "Thrift,"  "Self-reliance 
and  Courage,"  "Health,"  "Reading,"  "Amuse- 
ments," and  "Faith."    Their  general  application  was 


244     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

indicated  by  the  title,  "On  the  Threshold,"  and  the 
preface  indicated  their  origin.  The  plain,  direct,  and 
forceful  addresses  had  been  delivered  as  a  course  to 
young  men  on  Sunday  evenings,  at  the  suggestion  of 
President  Mark  Hopkins.  Their  extraordinarily 
favorable  reception  by  the  public  could  hardly  have 
been  anticipated.  How  far  beyond  the  anticipations 
of  the  author  this  reception  went  is  shown  to  an  amus- 
ing degree  in  a  letter  to  Mulford,  whose  recent 
appointment  as  lecturer  in  the  new  Episcopal  Divin- 
ity School  at  Cambridge  had  led  to  a  transfer  of  his 
residence  thither,  much  to  Hunger's  satisfaction. 
Mulford's  own  book,  "The  Republic  of  God,"  pub- 
lished in  1881,  is  referred  to  as  in  preparation. 

North  Adams,  November  24,  1880. 
My  dear  Friend: 

It  seems  not  quite  right  that  you  should  be  in  the  state, 
and  I  see  nothing  of  you.  I  have  hoped  you  would  run  up 
here  for  a  few  days.  I  have  no  doubt  your  new  home  holds 
you  tightly,  but  when  it  relaxes  a  httle  I  shall  certainly 
expect  you,  and  if  you  bring  a  bundle  of  MSS.  I  shall  like 
it  all  the  better. 

I  have  myself  been  very  busy.  Parish  work  pressed  hard 
and  I  began  the  season  not  well.  I  am  now  wholly  recovered, 
but  the  work  does  not  lessen.  About  a  fortnight  ago  Mr. 
Houghton  wrote  me  saying  that  if  I  would  get  my  talks  to 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  245 

young  people  ready  at  once  he  would  get  them  out  in  time 
for  the  holiday  trade.  The  task  seemed  impossible,  but  I 
undertook  it.  The  lectures  were  in  no  condition  to  go  into 
print.  Their  very  excellence  as  spoken  addresses  unfitted 
them  for  pubKcation  unless  they  were  to  be  put  out  as  such — 
which  would  not  have  been  what  was  wanted.  So  I  went 
to  work  and  rewrote  the  whole  series,  finishing  yesterday. 
They  are  hardly  identical  with  the  original,  and  I  think 
not  so  good.  But — thank  heaven — they  are  finished  and  I 
am  alive.  I  think  I  have  enough  endurance  to  fast  forty 
days  or  contend  for  the  Astley  belt.  But  I  fear  I  have 
done  a  very  unwise  thing  in  publishing.  The  book  will  do 
me  no  credit.  The  subjects  are  not  in  my  special  line  of 
thought.  .  .  .  Besides,  I  felt  the  restraint  of  writing  for 
young  men  and  so  was  kept  out  of  all  freedom  of  discussion. 
And  I  felt  obliged  to  adopt  a  formal  and  so  rather  stiff 
method  in  order  to  secure  sharpness  of  impression.  It  would 
have  been  easier,  and  (in  a  literary  way)  finer,  to  have 
rambled  on,  like  Carlyle  in  his  Edinburgh  address ;  but  that 
would  not  answer  in  an  entire  book.  Consequently  I  have 
two  hundred  pages  (I  suppose)  of  very  sound  and  methodi- 
cal advice,  but  prosy,  and  often  commonplace.  The  first 
and  second  chapters  are  poor,  the  others  somewhat  better. 
But  I  have  no  hope  of  them  as  a  book,  and  am  rather  sorry 
that  I  undertook  it.  I  speak  fully  of  it  to  you  as  I  want 
your  consideration  in  advance.  Scudder  helped  me  to  a 
good  title,  "On  the  Threshold,"  and  I  have  tried  to  redeem 


246    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

my  own  work  by  making  some  good  quotations.     So  goodbye 
to  it. 

I  am  eager  to  know  how  you  enjoy  your  new  life,  and  to 
share  it  for  a  day  or  two.  I  hope  to  get  to  Boston  in 
December  or  January,  but  my  work  binds  me.  I  have  a 
course  of  lectures  to  superintend,  my  pulpit,  which  I  stay 
in  more  and  more,  my  three  meetings  each  week — viz.,  a 
Sunday  school  teachers'  meeting,  a  Confirmation  class  and 
a  Church  meeting — besides  an  "Authors'  Carnival"  that 
looks  to  me  as  "master  of  the  revels."  Still  all  these  will 
not  keep  me  away  from  Boston  all  winter. 

The  letter  concludes  with  expressions  of  Hunger's 
great  satisfaction  in  the  recent  election  of  Garfield, 
reports  of  Carpenter's  progress  and  welfare,  and 
messages  of  family  greeting.  It  is  interesting  to 
compare  with  these  anticipations  the  reports  which 
began  almost  at  once  to  flow  in  from  the  book  which 
he  "feared  would  be  no  credit  to  him,"  and  "almost 
wished  he  had  not  undertaken." 

Highest  commendation  came  from  the  highest 
quarters.  The  Independent's  review  declared  "No 
better  book  exists  in  our  language,  nor,  so  far  as  we 
know,  in  any  language,  to  place  in  the  hands  of  a 
young  man,"  and  this  was  representative.  Criticism 
of  the  style  was  as  favorable  as  criticism  of  the  con- 
tent, and  proved  that  the  author's  long  years  of  devo- 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  247 

tion  to  the  art  of  expression  had  not  been  in  vain.  He 
was  fifty  years  of  age  on  the  publication  of  this,  his 
first  book,  and  had  systematically  and  assiduously 
cultivated  tliis  art  since  his  boyhood.  He  had  now  the 
reward  which  is  more  apt  to  attend  those  who  are  slow 
to  make  the  venture  into  literature. 

The  publishers  were  the  Boston  firm  of  Houghton 
&  Mifflin,  partly  for  the  reason  that  Mr.  H.  E. 
Scudder,  a  lifelong  and  intimate  friend,  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  firm.  Munger's  relations  with  him  had 
been  especially  close  while  Mulford's  books  were 
appearing  from  the  same  press.  Scudder's  advice, 
both  now  and  later,  as  respects  form  and  appearance, 
and  particularly  as  regards  the  titles  of  Munger's 
books,  was  of  the  greatest  value. 

The  most  practical  of  all  tests  was  the  most  deci- 
sive. The  public  exhausted  successive  editions  of 
"On  the  Threshold"  until  the  plates  were  worn  out, 
and  eleven  years  after  its  first  appearance,  when  more 
than  25,000  copies  had  been  sold,  the  publishers  issued 
an  enlarged  edition  in  their  series  of  Cambridge 
Classics,  a  series  limited  to  twenty  volumes  selected 
from  the  best  English  and  American  authors. 

One  of  the  most  notable  results  of  the  publication 
of  "On  the  Threshold"  was  to  bring  its  author  into 
relation  with  young  men  throughout  the  country  and 


248    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken.  Indeed, 
proposals  were  made  for  its  translation  into  Marathi 
and  (in  excerpts)  into  Armenian.  At  Paris,  in  1891, 
as  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Hunger  lingered  after  the  service  in 
the  American  Chapel,  a  stranger  asked  an  introduc- 
tion, saying:  "You  do  not  know  me,  but  I  know  you. 
I  am  a  bookseller  in  Australia.  I  have  sold  hundreds 
of  copies  of  your  'On  the  Threshold'  and  I  mean  to 
sell  hundreds  more."  In  England  especially  there 
was  high  appreciation  of  Munger's  advice  to  young 
men,  and  reminders  never  ceased  throughout  his  life 
of  the  help  and  inspiration  he  had  given  to  the  coming 
generation.  And  the  relations  thus  begun  often 
proved  lasting.  Munger's  book  simply  reflected  a 
personality  which  attracted  young  men  because  itself 
attracted  by  them.  As  a  college  preacher  at  Williams 
College,  Cornell,  Yale,  and  Harvard,  Mimger  was 
appreciated  because  his  heart  went  out  to  his  hearers 
— a  quality  whose  lack  in  college  pulpits  can  be  made 
good  by  no  other.  At  his  home  in  New  Haven  he  was 
visited  constantl}^  by  students  who  had  read  "On  the 
Threshold,"  and  those  who  came  found  not  mere 
sympath}^  and  advice,  but  a  readiness  to  render  tire- 
less service. 

We  maj^  surmise  that  it  was  this  favorable  recep- 
tion and  the  extensive  sale  of  Munger's  first  book  that 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  249 

led  to  the  publication  in  1883  of  a  companion  volume 
of  addresses  to  a  still  younger  class.  This  little  book 
was  entitled  "Lamps  and  Paths,"  and  in  the  first 
edition  contained  only  the  eight  addresses  made  by 
the  pastor  to  the  children  of  his  church  at  the  annual 
services  in  June  of  each  j^ear  especially  devoted  to 
their  needs.  In  a  second  edition  printed  in  1884,  four 
chapters  were  added  to  make  it  "a  fit  prelude  to  'On 
the  Threshold.'  " 

Of  the  grace  of  style  and  wisdom  of  content  which 
characterized  these  little  books,  their  wide  and  long- 
continued  sale  furnishes  some  evidence;  but  a  better 
attestation,  and  one  doubtless  even  more  acceptable 
to  the  author,  was  the  assurance  received  from  those 
best  qualified  to  judge  of  the  merit  and  value  of  the 
work.  Among  many  such  we  shall  quote  but  one — a 
letter  from  the  venerable  Quaker  poet  ending  as 
follows : 

Thy  little  book  "Lamps  and  Paths"  is  a  fitting  companion 
of  "On  the  Threshold."  I  find  both  are  cordially  welcomed. 
If  one  half  of  the  weak  and  unhealthy  books  for  young  peo- 
ple in  Sabbath  school  hbraries  could  be  cast  out  as  worse 
than  worthless,  and  in  their  place  these  two  volumes  sub- 
stituted, I  should  have  far  better  hope  for  the  young  and 
rising  generation  than  now  I  have. 

I  am  very  truly  thy  friend, 

John  G.  Whittier. 


250    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

"On  the  Threshold"  and  "Lamps  and  Paths"  may 
be  taken  as  representing  Hunger's  practical  contri- 
bution to  the  cause  so  dear  to  Bushnell  of  Christian 
Nurture.  But  neither  book  represented  his  real  aspi- 
ration. The  year  of  the  publication  of  "Lamps  and 
Paths"  (1883)  had  already  witnessed  the  appearance 
of  another  volume  which  embodied  the  product  of 
former  years  of  thought  recast  for  Hunger's  Berk- 
shire parish.  This  second  volume  had  indeed  been 
first  in  intention,  and  its  predecessor  owed  its  prior 
appearance  in  the  field  only  to  its  more  primary  char- 
acter. As  a  business  venture,  "On  the  Threshold"  was 
a  much  safer  risk  than  "The  Freedom  of  Faith."  It 
involved  less  care  and  labor.  But  it  was  the  latter 
volume  which  first  revealed  the  author's  calibre,  and 
in  it  he  made  his  chief  contribution  to  the  progress  of 
Christian  thought. 

Years  before,  Hulford,  who  owed  so  much  to  his 
friend  in  the  preparation  of  his  own  magnum  opus, 
had  urged  Hunger  to  publish  some  of  his  sermons, 
on  which,  as  he  knew,  immense  labor  had  been 
lavished.  Hulford's  great  idea  of  "The  Nation"  as  a 
moral  organism  was  no  sooner  before  the  public  than 
his  mind  set  to  work  upon  a  kindred  ecclesiastical 
problem.  The  question  of  civil  reconstruction  had 
called  forth  his  first  great  book.    The  need  of  recon- 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  251 

struction  in  the  church,  so  rent  by  sects,  so  fettered  in 
thought,  as  to  be  scarcely  conscious  of  either  catho- 
licity or  continuity,  called  forth  in  1881  its  counter- 
part, "The  Republic  of  God,  an  Institute  of  The- 
ology." As  before,  Mulford  brought  the  manuscript 
to  his  friend  in  North  Adams  for  final  revision;  but 
ten  years  earlier,  while  JMunger  was  still  at  the  begin- 
ning of  his  pastorate  in  Lawrence,  he  had  written : 

I  often  think  we  are  close  to  an  age  of  great  theology: 
not  only  of  light,  but  of  light  on  the  relation  of  men  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  world  which  is  made  manifest  through  the 
relation  of  men  to  God. 

The  part  which  might  fall  to  his  friend  in  this  devel- 
opment of  a  "new  theology"  Mulford  indicates  in  the 
judgment  he  pronounced  in  March,  1872,  on  a  sermon 
submitted  to  his  criticism:  "It  is  the  only  sermon  I 
ever  read  which  gives  me  hope  of  a  New  Theologj^ 
here."  It  was  not,  then,  by  accident  that  "The  Free- 
dom of  Faith"  came  to  be  regarded  as  representative 
of  the  New  Theology,  and  took  its  place  alongside 
"The  Republic  of  God."  When  its  wide  circulation 
in  England  seemed  to  call  for  some  statement  to 
English  readers  regarding  the  personal  history  of  its 
author.  Dr.  E.  P.  Parker  of  Hartford  introduced 
him  to  the  readers  of  The  Christian  World  of  London, 


252    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

justly  declaring  the  book  to  be  "no  happy  accident 
or  lucky  hit,  but  the  ripe  fruit  of  a  studious  life  and 
a  laborious  ministry."  As  a  friend  of  Bushnell's,  Dr. 
Parker  might  be  pardoned  for  adding  that  Munger 
was  a  "Bushnellite"  and  a  pupil  of  Nathaniel  W. 
Taylor.  He  also  noted  the  significant  fact  that  "The 
Freedom  of  Faith"  appeared  almost  simultaneously 
with  three  other  works  of  no  small  significance  to  the- 
ology by  professors  at  Yale.  The  three  in  question 
were  Prof.  George  P.  Fisher's  "Grounds  of  Theis- 
tic  and  Christian  Belief,"  Prof.  Samuel  Harris's 
"Philosophical  Basis  of  Theism,"  and  Prof.  George 
T.  Ladd's  "The  Doctrine  of  Sacred  Scripture." 

Hunger's  painstaking  study  and  his  self-develop- 
ment in  the  art  of  sermon  writing  had  indeed  reached 
in  1878  the  point  where  it  was  reasonable  to  expect 
for  them  a  wider  influence.  Since  his  coming  to 
North  Adams,  the  local  newspaper,  The  Transcript, 
edited  by  the  high-minded  Judge  James  T.  Robinson, 
had  printed  many  of  them  in  full,  and  readers  had 
welcomed  them.  In  this  printed  form  Hunger  sub- 
mitted them  to  his  more  intimate  friends.  It  is  in 
reply  to  this  request  for  his  judgment  on  the  question 
of  attempting  publication  that  Hulford  writes  under 
date  April  4,  1878: 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  253 

My  dear  Friend: 

Yesterday  M drove  over  to  see  me.     I  had  sent  him 

two  numbers — all  I  had  by  me  of  the  series — one  on  "Immor- 
tality," and  one  on  "Christ's  Treatment  of  Death."  So  I 
give  you  the  conversation. 

"Mr.  Munger  will  bring  the  whole  series  into  a  book.'*" 
said  M . 

"Do  you  think  they  would  justify  that.''"  said  I. 

"Most  certainly.  The  sermon  on  Immortality  is  one  of 
the  greatest  I  have  ever  read.  It  would  take  its  place  among 
the  greatest  of  modem  sermons.  I  was  myself  so  impressed 
by  it  that  on  Sunday  evening,  with  a  brief  preface,  I  read 
the  whole  sermon  to  my  congregation.  It  was  very  closely 
followed  and  made  a  strong  impression.  .  .  .  What  an 
exceptional  literary  faculty  he  has.     How  old  is  he.''" 

"Some  way  beyond  forty." 

"It  is  time  he  began  to  garner  his  wheat." 

In  spite  of  this  advice  from  an  unprejudiced  source, 
Munger  still  refrained.  Other  advice  came  in  similar 
strain,  including  that  of  Scudder;  but,  as  we  have 
seen,  Munger's  first  attempt  at  book-making  did  not 
include  his  more  serious  efforts,  but  consisted  of  the 
series  of  addresses  to  young  men.  Only  after  he  had 
proved  his  powers  in  these  did  the  writer  make  his 
appeal  to  the  attention  of  maturer  minds.  Titles 
were  discussed  with  Scudder,  the  final  form  being  of 


254    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

his  suggestion,  and  the  vohime  was  prefaced  by  an 
introductory  essay  on  "The  New  Theolog3\" 

Title  and  essay  were  both  amply  justified.  The 
appearance  of  the  book  at  once  placed  the  author 
among  the  foremost  spokesmen  of  the  progressive 
Congregational  pulpit.  Its  nucleus  was  formed  by 
five  discourses  on  Immortality  and  Resurrection, 
expanding  and  developing  the  address  at  Pacific  Theo- 
logical Seminary  already  summarized.  Doctrinally 
its  contribution  to  theological  thought  was  simply  a 
restatement  in  modern  terms  of  the  beliefs  pertaining 
to  the  destiny  of  the  soul.  After  the  prefatorj^  essay 
on  "The  New  Theology"  followed  a  series  of  seven- 
teen sermons,  of  which  the  first  was  "On  the  Reception 
of  New  Truth,"  and  the  last  nine  on  various  aspects  of 
the  hope  of  eternal  life.  They  were  not  theological. 
As  Parker  concisely  put  it,  the  author  "belonged 
more  to  Literature  than  to  Dogma."  The  entire 
series  illustrated  in  the  noblest  way  the  method  of 
the  "modern"  preacher  in  contrast  with  the  mere 
expounder  of  inherited  doctrine.  Reality,  not 
authority,  was  its  distinctive  note.  The  style  had  the 
clearness  and  charm  attainable  only  by  years  of  dis- 
cipline, and  not  even  then  if  natural  capacity  be 
wanting.  Best  of  all,  there  was  the  deep  undertone 
of  heartfelt  sympathy  and  devotion,  the  love  of  God 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  255 

and  man.  It  was  apparent  that  the  New  Theology 
of  which  men  had  talked  since  Bushnell's  day  had 
found  its  way  into  the  New  England  pulpit,  and  was 
worthily  represented  there.  But  the  chief  signifi- 
cance of  the  book  was  the  insight  which  it  gave  into 
the  author's  method  of  thought;  for  this  was  really 
typical  of  the  New  Theology,  and  gave  meaning  to 
the  claim  of  "freedom"  for  the  author's  faith.  The 
method  applied  by  Munger  in  stating  before  the 
North  Adams  Council  his  hope  for  the  redemption  of 
souls  was  a  method  based  upon  Robertson's  principles 
of  teaching.  It  rested  especially  upon  the  first  and 
third:  "Establishment  of  positive  truth  instead  of 
negative  destruction  of  error,"  and  "Truth  should  be 
taught  suggestively,  not  dogmatically."  A  construct- 
ive method  has  been  apparent  in  Munger's  state- 
ment to  the  council.  In  discussing  the  question  of 
judgment  to  come  he  had  sought  to  penetrate  at  once 
to  the  element  of  indispensable  value  in  the  traditional 
doctrine.  Denying  authority  to  any  merely  temporary 
interpretation,  he  had  reclothed  the  simple  principle 
of  retribution  in  a  form  suitable  to  modern  times,  just 
as  previously  it  had  been  clothed  in  forms  suitable  to 
earlier  ages.  The  same  constructive  method  was  now 
fearlessly  applied  in  wider  scope.  The  doctrines  of 
immortality,  of  the  resurrection,  of  judgment,  were 


256    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

analyzed  to  differentiate  the  nucleus  of  permanent 
moral  and  religious  value  from  its  transitory-  embodi- 
ments. The  vital  principle  once  clearly  stated  was 
"clothed  upon"  with  modern  modes  of  conception, 
gathered  from  wide  reading  in  philosophy,  literature, 
and  science.  There  was  perfect  "freedom,"  because 
the  substance  of  the  faith  was  held  in  joyful,  whole- 
souled  conviction.  Historic  continuity  was  under- 
stood not  as  cumulative  dogma,  progressively  narrow- 
ing the  field  of  permissible  development,  but  as 
fidelity  to  type,  each  generation  and  individual  having 
right  of  appeal  direct  to  the  sources.  Scripture  was 
not  used  merely  as  a  rule  of  faith  and  practice,  but  in  a 
true  Protestant  sense  and  defensively  as  the  only  rule. 
The  post-reformation  dogmatists  of  the  seventeenth 
century  in  their  zeal  for  system-building  too  soon 
forgot  that  the  "protest"  of  their  fathers  had  been  a 
protest  against  the  imposition  of  what  was  not  in 
Scripture.  It  had  been  a  protest  against  the  imposi- 
tion of  any  yoke  not  indispensable  to  the  historic 
faith ;  not  a  plea  for  a  return  from  the  yoke  of  priest 
and  prelate  to  the  yoke  of  the  scribe.  The  dogma- 
tists seemed  to  think  that  Luther  said:  Scripture 
teaches  so  and  so,  therefore  we  are  exempted,  or  even 
precluded,  from  forming  our  own  opinion.  The  Xew 
Theolog}%  as  interpreted  and  illustrated  by  men  of 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  257 

Munger's  type,  returned  to  Scripture  not  as  a  limi- 
tation, but  as  an  enlargement  and  incentive  to  modern 
thought.  They  were  "strict  constructionists"  of  the 
Protestant  constitution,  holding  to  a  principle  of 
"reserved  rights."  The  right  of  private  judgment 
is  not  curtailed  by  inferences  successively  deduced 
from  Scripture  by  the  system-makers.  It  is  limited 
only  by  what  the  Scriptures  themselves  clearly, 
undeniably,  and  positively  affirm  as  essential  to  faith 
and  practice.  The  assertion  that  Scripture  is  the 
only  rule  is  therefore  a  doctrine  of  "freedom"  in 
historical  continuity  of  faith.  The  New  Theology 
evinced  itself  as  "Protestant"  by  its  application  of  the 
Protestant  principle  to  the  emancipation  of  mind  and 
conscience.  It  evinced  itself  as  evolutionary  by  its 
adoption  of  John  Robinson's  famous  saying  about 
growing  light.  Interpretation  of  Scripture  had 
begun  to  be  historical.  Dogma  henceforth  would  be 
not  static,  but  dynamic. 

The  reception  given  the  book  by  press  and  public, 
by  ecclesiastic,  layman,  and  theologian,  proved  from 
the  outset  that  the  New  Theology  represented  in  it 
had  come  to  stay.  No  system  had  yet  been  developed. 
It  had  not  yet  been  determined  beyond  peradventure 
whether  the  Congregationalists  were  prepared  to 
admit  that  Congregationalism  had  catholicity  enough 


258    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

to  tolerate  this  mode  of  thought.  But  the  reception 
accorded  the  book  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
proved  that  the  leaven  was  working  in  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  open  minds.  To  what  high  places  it  had 
access  its  author  never  knew.  In  the  recent  aiito- 
biograplty  of  Bishop  Boyd  Carpenter,  at  one  time 
private  chaplain  to  Queen  Victoria,  we  find  the 
Queen's  acknowledgment  of  the  sending  of  Plunger's 
"Freedom  of  Faith."  It  was  accompanied  by  another 
volume  of  kindred  type  by  one  soon  to  be  a  close  col- 
league and  friend  of  Munger  in  their  adjoining 
churches  on  the  old  New  Haven  Green,  Xewman 
Smyth's  "Orthodox  Theolog>^  of  Today,"  and  West- 
cott's  "Revelation  of  the  Risen  Lord."  The  letters 
show  that  Hunger's  sermons  were  to  her  bereaved 
heart  most  comforting  of  all. 

Windsor  Castle,  13  May,  1884. 

I  have  been  wishing  to  write  to  you  for  some  time,  to  say 
how  much  (in  spite  of  having  hardly  a  moment  to  myself) 
I  have  been  interested  and  encouraged  and  strengthened  in 
reading  some  chapters  of  "The  Freedom  of  Faith,"  by 
Munger. 

Later  we  hear : 

I  read  what  you  marked  of  Professor  Westcott,  which  is 
striking,  but  not  to  me  like  Newman  Smyth's  and  Munger's 
wonderful  books.  .   .   . 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  259 

Bishop  Carpenter's  selection  for  the  Queen's  read- 
ing was  an  example  of  the  widespread  influence  of 
the  book.  It  found  its  way  especially  to  the  study 
table  of  many  a  non-conformist  minister,  and  not  only 
to  the  minister's  table,  but  into  the  homes  of  his 
parishioners  and  the  reading  pubhc,  bringing  to  its 
author  sheaves  of  appreciative  letters. 

Even  had  it  been  conceivable  that  the  conservative 
element  among  Congregationalists  should  rest  satis- 
fied with  the  reversal  at  North  Adams  of  the  decision 
of  the  Indian  Orchard  Council,  a  volume  such  as  "The 
Freedom  of  Faith,"  however  irenic  in  tone  and  pur- 
pose, would  be  sure  to  have  its  effect  in  hastening 
some  sort  of  crisis  in  Congregationalism.  Indeed, 
Munger's  case  was  only  representative.  The  par- 
ticular doctrine  on  which  the  issue  happened  in  this 
case  to  be  joined  was  by  no  means  the  real  or  funda- 
mental one  at  stake.  To  the  popular  view,  the  real 
issue  was  still  less  apparent  in  the  contemporary 
"Andover  case,"  wherein  the  exclusion  of  Newman 
Smyth  from  a  professorship,  and  the  attempt  to  oust 
those  in  office,  were  supposed  to  hinge  upon  the  possi- 
bility of  "future  probation"  for  "infants,  idiots,  and 
some  heathen."  More  philosophic  minds,  such  as  that 
of  George  T.  Ladd,  at  the  date  of  the  council  stiU  a 
Congregational  pastor  in  Milwaukee,  Wisconsin,  per- 


260    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ceived  that  there  was  need  primarily  of  a  definition  of 
The  Doctrine  of  Sacred  Scripture.  Leonard  Bacon  of 
New  Haven,  the  leading  authority  on  Congrega- 
tional polity,  appreciated  its  deeper  bearing  on  the 
problem  of  fellowsliip  versus  Hberty,  and  warned 
against  the  growing  disposition  toward  denomina- 
tional exclusiveness,  which  now  made  necessary  a 
restatement  of  Congregational  principle.  "The  true 
issue,"  as  he  conceived  it,  was  a  question  of  catholicity. 
Two  leading  organs  of  Congregational  opinion,  The 
Congregationalist  in  Boston,  and  The  Independent  in 
New  York,  took  opposite  sides  in  the  struggle.  The 
Congregationalist  sent  out  a  list  of  questions  to  a  hun- 
dred leading  clergymen  of  the  denomination  to  ascer- 
tain, on  the  principle  that  majorities  must  rule, 
whether  certain  doctrines  specified  ought  to  be  toler- 
ated "in  the  denomination."  Other  supporters  of  the 
sectarian  view  secured  the  introduction  into  the  Ver- 
mont State  Conference,  through  the  agency  of  the 
honored  Dr.  Geo.  L.  Walker,  of  resolutions  aiming  to 
secure  an  exodus  from  the  "denomination"  of  all  min- 
isters not  in  sympath}^  with  its  "historic"  creeds.  The 
same  party,  convinced  that  the  orthodoxy  of  Congre- 
gationalism was  in  danger,  secured  the  appointment  of 
a  large  and  representative  committee  at  the  National 
Council  of  1881,  charged  with  the  duty  of  formulat- 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  261 

ing  a  creed.  The  reactionaries  went  even  beyond  this 
and  did  not  scruple  to  employ  the  machinery  of  the 
great  missionary  board,  founded  indeed  by  Congre- 
gationalists,  but  never  hitherto  sectarian,  in  the  inter- 
est of  their  own  interpretation  of  orthodoxy.  Candi- 
dates for  missionarj'-  service,  otherwise  amply  qualified 
and  readj^  to  accept,  besides  the  great  catholic  creeds, 
statements  of  belief  honored  by  the  fathers  of  Congre- 
gationalism, were  required  to  give  assent  to  a  special 
form  of  creed  prepared  to  define  orthodoxy  as  under- 
stood by  the  party  in  control. 

On  the  other  hand,  broad-minded  men  like  Wash- 
ington Gladden  and  Amory  H.  Bradford  stemmed 
the  tide  of  creed-making  by  showing  its  incompati- 
bility with  the  spirit  and  history  of  Congregationalism 
both  at  home  and  abroad.  They  proved  the  whole 
process  of  denominational  narrowing  down  to  be  a 
recent  and  self-destructive  innovation. 

The  history  of  the  movement  against  the  New  The- 
ology in  the  Congregational  churches  with  its  various 
phases  in  ordination  and  installation  councils,  and  in 
the  administrative  machinery  of  Andover  Seminary 
and  the  American  Board  of  Foreign  Missions,  re- 
mains to  be  written.  Munger's  portion  in  it,  as  he 
himself  fully  realized,  was  not  so  much  creative  as  rep- 
resentative.   He  was  a  typical  New  England  minis- 


262    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ter  of  the  "progressive"  school.  Could  he,  or  could  he 
not,  be  tolerated?  It  is  interesting,  in  view  of  subse- 
quent developments,  to  turn  back  to  his  own  confi- 
dential report  of  the  proceedings  of  the  council  at  his 
installation,  written  to  JNIulford  before  daylight  on  the 
morning  following. 

North  Adams,  Decembek  12,  1877. 
My  dear  Friend: 

Thanks  for  your  letter  and  its  suggestions.  I  followed 
them,  prefacing  my  Statement  yesterday  with  assent  to  the 
two  creeds  [Apostles'  and  Nicene].  I  write  by  gas  light 
in  the  morning.  I  have  just  seen  Pres.  Porter  off  by  the 
7  o'clock  train.  My  family  are  not  yet  up,  as  yesterday 
was  a  very  fatiguing  day  to  them.  I  had  all  the  clergymen 
and  three  laymen  to  dinner — sixteen  in  all,  I  believe. 

We  may  omit  the  report  of  the  public  proceedings 
and  come  to  the  inner  history. 

.  .  .  Since  writing  the  above  I  have  seen  Jenkins  and 
Gladden.  I  find  that  the  laymen — two  or  three — and  one 
minister  expressed  the  purpose  to  vote  against  me,  and  quite 
a  current  began  to  set  in  that  direction.  Pres.  Hopkins 
merely  dissented  from  one  or  more  points  in  metaphysics — 
theologically  he  was  in  sympathy,  or  at  least  grandly  toler- 
ant. After  several  had  said  they  should  vote  against  me, 
Pres.  Porter  took  up  the  matter  and  made  a  fine  speech  of 
great  power  and  cogency  on  toleration.     He  told  these  men 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  263 

that  if  they  voted  against  me  it  must  be  on  the  ground  of 
my  ministerial  unfitness,  and  that  they  would  be  bound  to 
give  their  reasons  and  stand  by  them. 

Such  was  also  the  point  of  view  of  Dr.  Leonard 
Bacon,  after  The  Congregationalist  had  endeavored 
to  adjust  the  matter  to  its  conception  of  "denomi- 
national" doctrine.  Under  the  caption  "The  True 
Issue,"  in  The  Congregationalist  for  December  26, 
1877,  he  stated  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  question 
fundamentally  at  stake,  a  question  that  would  not 
down  till  "settled  right."  Referring  to  the  circular 
of  inquiry  and  its  responses  he  pointed  out  that  they 

seem  to  regard  the  question  (whether  the  doctrines  speci- 
fied should  or  should  not  be  tolerated)  as  relating  not  to 
churches  as  belonging  to  Christ,  but  to  churches  as  belong- 
ing to  "the  Congregational  denomination,"  and  some  of 
them  seem  to  imply  (perhaps  unconsciously)  that  a  minister 
objectionable  in  that  regard  to  us  Congregationalists,  may 
nevertheless  be  a  good  minister  if  he  will  go  to  some  other 
denomination. 

Allow  me,  then,  to  say  that  the  issue  thus  presented  is 
not,  in  my  humble  opinion,  the  true  issue.  The  question  on 
which  some  of  our  young  men  are  becoming  unsettled  in 
judgment  is  not,  "What  is  the  doctrine  of  'our  denomination' 
concerning  the  life  to  come?"     It  is  rather,  "What  is  the 


264  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

truth? — what  do  the  Scriptures  teach? — what  is  the  teaching 
of  our  Lord?" 

;Most  weighty,  from  such  a  source,  was  the  distinc- 
tion between  Congregational  and  Presb3i;erian  polity 
on  this  question : 

In  the  Presbyterian  denomination  it  would  be,  perhaps, 
enough  to  say,  the  Westminster  Assembly  of  divines  settled 
all  those  questions  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago ;  and 
our  church  has  settled  them  for  us  by  adopting  the  stand- 
ards, from  which,  if  we  deviate,  we  must  go  to  some  other 
denomination.  But  Congregationalism  from  the  days  of 
John  Robinson,  has  been  "ver}-^  confident  that  the  Lord  has 
more  truth  and  light  yet  to  break  forth  out  of  his  holy 
word" ;  and  the  covenant  of  every  Congregational  church 
is,  either  expressly  or  by  implication,  like  thfit  of  the  Pil- 
grims at  Scrooby,  at  Leyden,  and  at  Plymouth,  "whereby," 
said  Robinson,  "we  promise  and  covenant  ^rith  God  and  with 
one  another,  to  receive  whatever  light  or  truth  shall  be  made 
known  to  us  from  his  written  word." 

Such  was  indeed  the  inner  and  saving  principle  of 
Congregationalism,  destined  to  redeem  it  from  the 
fetters  of  sectarianism  and  to  prove  that  it  has  both 
catholicity  and  continuity. 

But  the  struggle  was  no  brief  one.  During  all  the 
eight  years  of  INIunger's  pastorate  at  North  ^Vdams 
it  was  approaching  a  new  outbreak.    Echoes  of  the 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  265 

storm  continued  to  rumble  and  were  evoked  afresh  as 
new  contributions  appeared  not  from  Hunger's  pen 
alone,  but  from  many  another  champion  of  the  New 
Theology.  The  issue  was  gradually  reduced  to  clearer 
form  and  recognized  as  involving  far  more  than  a 
mere  theory  of  retribution  in  the  world  to  come.  Like 
most  theological  controversies,  it  led  back  inevitably 
to  the  question  of  authorit5^  Account  would  need  to 
be  taken  of  the  new  science  of  biblical  criticism;  for 
the  ultimate  appeal  of  the  Protestant  churches  is  to 
Scripture,  and  enquiry  into  the  origin  and  nature 
of  the  biblical  writings  was  fast  rendering  obsolete  the 
old-fashioned,  dogmatic  interpretation,  and  enforcing 
the  historical.  The  Scotch  and  English  free  churches 
were  beginning  to  be  aroused  over  the  teachings  of  W. 
Robertson  Smith,  a  far  greater  critic  than  Colenso. 
Three  years  more  would  witness  the  appearance  of  his 
"Old  Testament  in  the  Jewish  Church,"  soon  to  be 
followed  by  "Prophets  of  Israel"  and  the  biblical  arti- 
cles in  the  ninth  edition  of  the  "Encyclopaedia  Britan- 
nica."  It  was  not  long  before  the  churches  in  America 
were  to  be  stirred  by  the  new  views  of  the  Mosaic  writ- 
ings championed  by  William  R.  Harper  at  Yale  and 
the  case  of  Professor  Briggs  at  Union  Seminary.  But 
as  yet  there  was  little  indication  of  the  true  storm 
centre.    Ladd's  "Doctrine  of  Sacred  Scripture"  was 


266  THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

too  massive  and  recondite  for  general  circulation.  In 
Yale  Divinity  School  Leonard  Bacon,  Fisher,  and 
Harris  were  still  carrying  on  in  broad  and  catholic 
spirit  the  traditions  of  Edwards,  Dwight,  and  Taylor. 
The  time  was  not  far  off  when  Hunger  himself, 
elected  a  member  of  the  Yale  Corporation  distinctly 
as  a  representative  of  the  New  Theology,  would  liave 
a  share  in  the  changes  which  were  to  give  to  historical 
criticism  of  the  biblical  writings  a  recognized  place 
in  the  curriculum  both  of  the  Divinitj^  School  and  the 
University.  JNIunger  was  to  find  himself  a  colleague 
and  close  friend  of  Newman  Smyth,  one  of  those 
earliest  to  recognize  the  primary  importance  of  the 
question  of  Scriptural  authority,  a  central  figiu'e  in 
the  group  destined  to  bring  it  into  its  true  perspec- 
tive. Meantime,  it  is  interesting  to  record  his  appre- 
ciation of  the  significance  of  his  own  case  in  the 
hurrying  tide  of  events. 

To  Mulford  he  writes  on  Christmas  day,  1877: 

It  is  decidedly  a  novel  experience  to  sit  silent  among  these 
hills  and  see  the  leaven  I  cast  into  the  lump  working  so 
thoroughly.  So  far  it  has  been  straight  and  simple  work. 
My  statement  has  been  commonly  understood  as  a  protest 
against  external,  governmental  theories  of  penalty,  and  of 
immoral  theology  generally.  .  .  .  One  thing  in  the  present 
drift  rather  alarms  me.     I  fear  there  is  going  to  be  a  run 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  267 

of  the  English  notions  of  annihilation.  It  is  the  result  of 
severe  exegesis  combined  with  the  Darwinian  doctrine  of 
survival.  Is  it  not  a  strange  combination?  ...  I  know  that 
it  is  utterly  and  absolutely  opposed  to  all  your  thought  in 
theology  and  philosophy.  And  a  thorough  treatment  of 
it  in  your  book  would  be  most  timely.  ...  I  wrote  a  sermon 
last  week  on  Romans  viii.  20,  21,  working  up  the  same  point 
you  suggest — that  hope  is  the  great  gift  of  God,  and  that  it 
more  than  balances  the  subjection  to  vanity,  i.e.,  evil.  In 
it  is  to  be  found  the  solution  of  the  existence  of  evil. 

But  we  must  turn  from  these  echoes  of  theological 
conflict  to  the  simple  annals  of  Hunger's  Berkshire 
parish.  Shortly  after  his  coming  the  church  built,  on 
plans  approved  by  himself,  a  new  parsonage,  from 
whose  study  windows  he  could  look  out  over  the  pic- 
turesque valley  to  the  majestic  slopes  and  preci- 
pices of  Greylock.  This  became  the  home  of  the 
family,  increased  now  by  the  birth  of  a  daughter, 
Mary  Elizabeth  Wilhs,  and  in  1883  of  a  son,  Thorn- 
ton Taf t.  Resources  were  now  somewhat  ampler ;  for 
in  its  growth  the  church  had  not  failed  to  increase 
its  pastor's  salary,  and  the  sale  of  books  soon  added 
very  materially  to  this  income.  Thus  there  could  be 
freer  intercourse  with  friends  in  Boston  and  New 
York  and  greater  enjoyment  of  the  delights  of  hos- 
pitality.    Of  old  friends,  Jenkins  at  Pittsfield  was 


268    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

close  at  hand;  Mrs.  Baker,  still  active,  came  for  long 
and  greatly  appreciated  visits.  Mulford  and  Scud- 
der,  as  we  have  seen,  found  their  way  promptly  to 
the  North  Adams  parsonage,  and  were  by  no  means 
alone  among  the  associates  of  earlier  years.  Hunger's 
frequent  trips  to  New  York  included  visits  to  Taft, 
Carpenter,  and  his  brother-in-law,  Robert  Harris. 
Among  more  recent  friends  there  were  Gladden  at 
Springfield,  and  President  Carter  and  ex-President 
Mark  Hopkins  at  Williamstown.  In  Boston  and 
its  neighborhood  there  was  also  the  choice  circle  of 
the  Winthrop  Club ;  in  Andover  Prof.  Joseph  Henry 
Thayer;  in  New  Haven  President  Porter  and 
George  P.  Fisher.  Besides,  there  were  in  North 
Adams  itself  men  and  women  whom  to  know  was  a 
privilege  and  uplift.  Of  such  were  his  loyal  sup- 
porters in  the  church.  Deacon  James  Hunter,  and 
Judge  James  T.  Robinson,  whom  Munger  reckoned 
with  that  "group  of  Massachusetts'  statesmen"  who 
in  the  nation's  crisis  "saved  the  Union,  not  by  blindly 
following  ideals,  but  by  practical  wisdom,  whicli  is 
the  ideal  of  idealism."  Munger's  nature  was  of  a 
type  to  cling  loyally  to  friends  of  earlier  years,  while 
ever  enlarging  the  circle.  The  abundant  correspond- 
ence still  preserved  shows  how  richly  the  opportunity 
was  appreciated  on  both  sides. 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  269 

Especially  did  his  publications  bring  him  into 
contact  with  many  a  choice  spirit  seeking  its  kind.  In 
the  summer  of  1883,  through  Gladden  as  a  mutual 
friend,  Richard  Watson  Gilder,  editor  of  The  Cen- 
tury Magazine  expressed  his  desire  for  acquaintance, 
asking  a  further  contribution  to  the  magazine : 

.  .  .  The  article  of  yours  we  did  pubKsh  was  one  of  the 
most  acceptable  essays  we  have  had  the  privilege  of 
printing — one  of  the  most  memorable,  I  may  say.  Your  new 
book  (The  Freedom  of  Faith)  has  been  my  companion  this 
summer.  I  do  not  wish  to  exaggerate,  but  it  has  (in  con- 
nection with  other  similar  reading,  and  as  culmination  of 
the  latter)  had  a  very  unusual  effect  upon  my  mind,  and 
I  feel  somewhat  like  writing  the  old-fashioned  letter  of 
thanks.  As  there  is  nothing  peculiar  about  "my  mind" — 
in  other  words,  as  it  doubtless  is  in  much  the  same  state  as 
that  of  myriads  of  others  of  my  own  age  and  tastes — reared 
in  the  old-fashioned  orthodoxy,  but  disgusted  with  its  lies — 
and  tinged  with  the  modern  skeptical  tone,  yet  clinging  to  the 
old  for  its  essential  truth,  its  power  to  vi^^fy,  and  its  satis- 
fying implications — as  I  say,  my  own  mind  is  only  one  of 
a  larger  class,  I  am  sure  there  must  be  many  who  owe  you 
a  heavy  debt  of  gratitude,  and  who  yet  are  silent. 

Sometime  I  should  like  to  say  what  has  occurred  to  me 
on  some  of  these  subjects,  to  see  whether  the  thoughts  have 
any  worth  or  novelty. 


270    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Concerning  Immortality,  when  I  was  in  Concord  lately, 
I  was  told  by  a  friend  of  Emerson's  that  at  a  "conversation" 
there  he  expressed  himself  strongly  as  believing  in  personal 
immortality.  His  friend  drew  him  out  on  the  subject;  he 
repeated  and  insisted,  but  did  not  argue.  He  never  argued. 
Do  you   remember  Whitman's 

"  If    maggots    and    rats    ended    us — then 
Alarum !  for  we  are  betray'd !" 

.  .  .  But  lest  I  should  bore  you  with  matters  trite  to 
you,  I  will  keep  to  my  editorial  function,  and  beg  that  you 
will  not  forget  that  you  are  a  contributor — and  are  in 
sincere  demand. 

Very  respectfully, 

R  W.  Gilder. 

Of  the  many  letters  of  spontaneous  appreciation 
of  Munger's  books  which  opened  the  way  for  new 
friendships  and  interchange  of  thought  we  can  add 
but  one.  It  was  from  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
divines  and  ablest  scholars  of  the  Episcopal  Church, 
Prof.  A.  V.  G.  Allen  of  the  Divinity  School  in  Cam- 
bridge, Mass. 

Cambridge,  May  16,  1883. 
My  dear  Mr.  Munger: 

I  feel  impelled  to  write  to  you,  and  to  thank  you  for  your 
book.  I  was  prepared  to  welcome  it  by  what  had  been  told 
me  beforehand  by  Dr.  Mulford,  but  the  half  had  not  been 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  271 

told.  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  read  a  book  that  has  done 
me  so  much  good.  I  took  it  up  as  a  theological  study,  but 
I  soon  found  it  was  something  more  and  higher  than  that, 
and  that  I  was  being  reached  by  the  printed  sermon  as  I 
had  not  been  reached  or  moved  since  the  old  days  when 
Robertson  of  Brighton  came  to  me  Hke  a  revelation.  These 
sermons  surpass  Robertson,  or  any  sermons  that  I  have  read, 
because  they  meet  the  experience  and  the  want  of  another 
generation,  that  has  taken  a  long  stride  forward,  that  is 
perplexed  by  new  difficulties,  and  vaster  necessities.  To  me 
they  seem  to  contain  the  deepest  philosophy  of  life,  they 
adjust  and  solve  the  hardest  problems,  they  take  into 
account,  Hke  a  sensitive  barometer,  the  most  subtle  influences 
that  now  affect  thoughtful  minds.  And  it  is  all  done  with 
so  much  apparent  ease  and  such  an  exceedingly  beautiful 
style,  that  one  hardly  knows  which  to  admire  most,  the 
thought,  or  its  exquisite  setting. 

***** 
With  such  books  as  this  before  the  world  one  is  tempted 
to  feel  that  the  alienation  of  thoughtful  men  from  Christian- 
ity is  already  overcome  in  its  inward  principle,  and  that  the 
Church  is  on  the  eve  of  achieving  a  greater  victory  than  in 
the  age  of  Constantine.     I  am  with  great  respect  and  esteem 

Sincerely  yours, 

A.  V.  G.  Allen. 

The  recognition  that  Munger  had  become  a  factor 
in  the  theological  world  came  in  the  summer  of  1883, 


272    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

when  Illinois  College,  one  of  the  oldest  institutions 
of  the  ^liddle  West,  founded  by  a  band  of  home 
missionary  pioneers  from  Yale  and  dehghting  still 
to  call  itself  "the  Yale  of  the  West,"  honored  Hunger 
and  itself  by  bestowing  on  him  the  degree  of  D.D. 
It  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  kindred  honors.  Faith- 
ful parish  work  both  as  pastor  and  preacher  was 
having  its  effect  on  JNIunger's  reputation  bej^ond  the 
Berkshire  Hills,  and  the  result  was  so  fitting  as  to 
seem  almost  foreordained.  In  1884,  two  of  the  oldest 
and  strongest  churches  of  New  Haven  combined  to 
form  the  United  Church,  and  naturally  sought  a 
pastor  worthy  of  the  New  Haven  succession.  When 
in  1885  their  choice  fell  upon  Hunger  none  save  the 
theological  reactionaries  could  dispute  its  wisdom. 
In  every  respect,  whether  as  pastor,  preacher,  civic 
leader,  or  cultured  man  of  letters,  it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  name  one  better  qualified  for  a  ministry 
in  such  a  community  and  under  the  shadow  of  Yale. 
Horeover,  while  the  eight  years  of  fruitful  service  in 
North  Adams  had  greatly  endeared  INIimger  to  that 
whole  community,  making  his  uprooting  a  sorrow  on 
both  sides,  still  it  was  frankly  and  fully  recognized 
that  sentiment  ought  not  to  prevail  in  such  a  case 
over  sober  judgment.  The  remaining  years  of 
Hunger's   life — and   he   was   now   approacliing  his 


PASTOR  AND  TEACHER  273 

fifty-sixth  year — if  they  were  to  attain  their  fullest 
scope  and  efficiency,  would  unquestionably  be  more 
wisely  spent  in  New  Haven  than  in  North  Adams. 
With  reluctance,  but  in  a  spirit  of  overflowing  good 
will  and  thankfulness  for  the  eight  years  of  service, 
Hunger's  people  in  North  Adams  joined  with  repre- 
sentatives of  the  town  and  civic  institutions  in  a  fare- 
well and  God-speed.  His  letter  of  resignation  was 
read  by  Rev.  Mr.  Denison  of  Williams  College,  with 
whom  Munger  had  exchanged.  His  farewell  sermon 
was  preached  to  a  crowded  congregation  on  the  even- 
ing of  November  15,  on  the  topic,  "Man  a  Stranger 
in  the  Earth."  We  may  take  from  the  North  Adams 
Transcript's  report  a  few  sentences  illustrative  of  the 
feeling  of  the  community : 

It  was  a  fitting  and  impressive  parting  message  to  his 
people  and  vividly  condensed  and  emphasized  the  teachings 
of  his  eight  years  of  memorable  and  splendid  service.  His 
work  in  this  village  has  been  remarkable  for  its  steady 
growth,  power,  and  influence.  He  grew  with  his  work  and 
every  year  his  sermons  have  increased  in  strength,  beauty, 
and  fascination.  .  .  .  He  recognized  also  the  intelligence, 
the  energy,  the  liberal  spirit  and  warm  heart  of  this  pro- 
gressive and  prosperous  community,  and  he  labored  to 
give  this  people  his  highest  thoughts,  and  his  deepest  con- 
victions, .   .   .  Above  all  he  was  manly  and  brave,  tender  and 


274    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

true.  A  man  stood  behind  the  words  and  charged  them  with 
life  and  power.  He  had  no  fear  of  man  or  majorities  or 
clamors  or  opinions,  but  spoke  what  he  saw  and  believed  with 
tranquil  courage  and  delightful  eloquence.  He  provoked 
no  controversy,  engaged  in  no  disputes,  uttered  no  sarcasms, 
indulged  in  no  mockery — "the  fume  of  little  hearts" ;  but 
preached  straight  to  the  hearts  of  men,  bringing  Hght, 
beauty,  hope,  cheer,  and  warnings,  and  using  history,  litera- 
ture, poetry,  scholarship,  life's  experience  and  training  as 
aids  to  his  main  purpose — the  proclamation  of  the  truth. 
.  .  .  His  work  here  has  been  an  education  and  permanent 
illumination.  He  has  changed  the  tone  and  the  thinking  of 
all  this  region  and  created  a  taste  for  the  best  thought  and 
manner.  He  has  become  a  leader  in  that  vast  and  slow,  but 
genuine  modification  of  religious  behef  which  now  confronts 
some  of  the  old  forms  and  creeds. 


CHAPTER  IX 

CHURCH  BUn.DING 
New  Haven^  United  Church,  1885-1900 

In  accepting  the  call  of  the  United  Church  in  New 
Haven,  Miinger  was  aware  that  he  was  taking  up  the 
final  service  of  his  life.  The  needs  of  his  family  were 
a  motive,  but  his  own  now  fully  ripened  powers  were 
called  for  in  wider,  more  enduring  service  to  the 
church  catholic.  By  ancestry  and  conviction,  as  well 
as  by  the  vicissitudes  of  his  ministerial  life,  he  was 
fitted  for  service  in  the  development  of  Congrega- 
tionalism. To  the  working  out  of  its  "continuity  and 
catholicity"  he  had  loyally  committed  himself.  No 
lesser  reasons  would  have  sufficed  to  uproot  him  from 
the  happy  relations  of  his  Berkshire  parish.  Theo- 
logical controversy  would  inevitably  be  renewed. 
Opponents  of  the  New  Theology  had  just  failed  in 
their  attempt  to  prevent  the  installation  of  Newman 
Smyth.  They  would  seize  with  avidity  a  new  oppor- 
tunity so  conspicuous.  Many  of  Munger's  friends, 
conscious  of  the  issue,  confident  both  in  the  cause  of 
liberalism  and  in  its  champion,  wrote  to  urge  his 


276    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

acceptance.  They  were  pleased  with  the  concentra- 
tion of  men  of  this  type  in  the  ancient  seat  of  New 
England  theolog}%  and  looked  for  its  revival.  A  very 
few,  less  well  acquainted  with  the  man,  knowing  of 
the  organized  opposition,  wrote  to  dissuade  him.  The 
vote  of  the  church  in  extending  the  call  had  shown  an 
opposing  minority  of  about  one  third  the  membership 
present,  though  this  had  been  brought  to  a  maximum 
by  organized  effort,  while  those  who  favored  the  call 
had  taken  no  such  measures.  Ecclesiastical  politics 
were  thus  already  making  their  unwelcome  appear- 
ance. But  Munger  gave  it  slight  consideration. 
Eight  years  before  he  had  deliberately  challenged 
the  issue  before  an  installing  council  partially  com- 
mitted against  the  principle  of  the  freedom  of  the 
pulpit.  He  could  of  course  still  be  counted  on  to  do 
battle  against  the  reactionaries  if  loyalty  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  Congregationalism  required  it.  But  it  was 
in  no  controversial  spirit  that  he  viewed  the  situation ; 
nor  did  questions  of  ecclesiastical  politics  occupy  in 
his  mind  a  place  to  be  compared  in  importance  with 
the  immediate,  constructive  interests  of  the  parish  to 
whose  upbuilding  he  was  to  devote  the  remainder  of 
his  days. 

The  sermon  preached  on  the  Sunday  following  the 
installation   (November  19,  1885)   was  repeated  on 


CHURCH  BUILDING  277 

the  eleventh  anniversary,  with  a  few  prefatory 
words.  An  extract  from  these  will  show  the  spirit 
that  controlled  it. 

The  sermon  was  written  in  North  Adams,  just  before 
coming  here,  and  its  tone  was  as  remote  from  that  of  the 
installing  council  and  its  adjuncts,  as  the  clear  winds  that 
blow  from  Greylock  are  unhke  those  easterly  gales  that 
creep  in  from  the  Sound,  laden  with  blinding  fog  and 
chilling  dampness. 

It  must  have  been  a  special  providence  that  led  me  to 
write  the  sermon  there  rather  than  here ;  for  thus  I  was  not 
tempted  to  break  a  resolution — never  yet  broken,  I  think — 
not  to  utter  a  word  controversially  in  reply  to  attacks  on 
my  theological  opinions.  .  .  .  Perhaps  it  was  because  the 
sermon  happened  to  strike  a  higher  range  of  thought  than 
that  made  prominent  at  the  Council,  that  the  latter  was  soon 
forgotten,  and  the  church  itself  took  its  place  in  the  minds 
of  the  people. 

The  sermon  was  indeed  a  typical  application  of  the 
first  of  the  six  principles  adopted  from  Robertson, 
"The  establishment  of  positive  truth,  instead  of  the 
negative  destruction  of  error."  Its  text  was  from 
Revelation  xxi.  13:  "On  the  east  three  gates;  and 
on  the  north  three  gates;  and  on  the  south  three 
gates ;  and  on  the  west  three  gates."  The  symmetry 
of  the  New  Jerusalem  was  made  the  type  of  the  per- 


278    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

feet  ehureh  of  God.  The  preacher  applied  the  ideal 
to  the  institution  wliich  had  called  him  to  be  its  leader, 
and  defined  its  relations  as  an  organized  embodiment 
of  the  spirit  of  Christ.  These  relations  were  twofold : 
( 1 )  "To  the  churches  and  the  whole  community  about 
it"  and  (2)  "to  the  Christian  ages."  The  Puritan 
minister  had  come  to  believe  that  the  "cathohcity  and 
continuity"  whose  appeal  had  once  nearly  carried 
him  into  the  ranks  of  the  Episcopal  Broad-church 
movement,  would  be  won  more  surely  and  lastingly 
under  the  free  and  plastic  forms  of  New  England 
church  democracy.  In  the  building  of  the  Church  that 
is  not  first  which  is  material  but  that  which  is  spiritual, 
and  afterward  that  which  is  material. 

By  request  of  the  congregation  the  sermon  was 
published  together  with  the  statement  of  belief  read 
before  the  installing  council.  The  contrast  of  this 
statement  with  that  given  at  North  Adams  is  also  sig- 
nificant. No  trace  remains  of  conflict  over  any  special 
issue.  Under  the  eight  heads  of  I.  God,  II.  Man,  III. 
The  Scriptures,  IV.  The  Atonement,  V.  Regenera- 
tion and  the  Work  of  the  Spirit,  VI.  Penalty,  VII. 
Judgment,  Heaven  and  Hell,  VIII.  The  Church,  a 
simple,  constructive,  and  rational  theologj'-  is  outlined. 
The  beliefs  were  presented  "not  as  mere  matters  of 
speculation,  nor  as  formal  dogmas,  nor  as  constituting 


THE  UNITED  CHURCH,  NEW  HAVEN 


CHURCH  BUILDING  279 

a  system  of  theology ;  but  rather  as  truths  of  personal 
experience."  As  an  example  of  their  concise  and 
lucid  statement,  strongly  affirmative  and  yet  unpro- 
vocative,  we  may  take  the  single  article  entitled 
"Judgment,  Heaven  and  Hell." 

Judgment  is  a  continuous  process,  and  is  merciful  and 
not  doom-like — being  a  gracious  separation  between  good 
and  evil.  It  is  therefore  represented  as  the  office  of  the 
Christ.  The  conception  of  it  as  continuous  is  not  exclusive 
of  a  final  judgment. 

I  believe  that  heaven  is  oneness  with  God  and  that  hell 
is  separation  from  God ;  and  I  protest  against  locahzing 
conceptions  that  break  the  force  of  these  supreme,  central, 
and  practical  truths. 

There  were  other  reasons  besides  the  desire  to  avoid 
ecclesiastical  controversy  that  helped  to  determine 
Munger's  constructive  and  irenic  attitude.  Infor- 
mation had  been  frankly  laid  before  him  by  Judge 
Simeon  E.  Baldwin,  as  representative  of  the  church, 
concerning  the  opposition  to  his  theological  views. 
Judge  Baldwin  was  widely  known  as  one  of  the  lead- 
ing legal  minds  of  the  country  and  his  advice  that  the 
opposition  be  disregarded  justified  his  reputation  for 
judicial  shrewdness.  It  was  gladly  accepted  and 
followed.  But  simultaneously  there  had  come  other 
and  sadder  news. 


280    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Hunger's  thought  during  the  needless  ordeal  he 
was  compelled  to  undergo  was  kept  on  higher  things. 
A  great  vision  of  the  upbuilding  of  the  Church  effaced 
the  petty  quarrels  over  points  of  dogma.  All  his 
preparation  for  the  council  and  the  beginning  of  his 
new  work  had  been  made  under  the  shadow  of  a 
message  from  Cambridge  that  Mulford,  the  com- 
panion of  his  mind,  his  honored,  loved  interpreter  of 
life  and  duty,  was  stricken  with  incurable  disease. 
In  October,  1885,  he  writes  to  Mrs.  Baker: 

I  am  today  overwhelmed  with  grief  by  news  in  regard  to 
the  health  of  Dr.  Mulford.  Dr.  Wyman  and  his  brother, 
S.  Mulford,  M.  D.,  of  New  York,  pronounce  him  incurably 
ill  with  Bright's  disease.  I  cannot  bear  it.  It  comes  closer 
to  me  than  almost  anything  that  could  happen.  We  are 
very  unlike,  but  there  is  the  profoundest  sympathy  between 
us  and  the  deepest  affection  on  each  side. 

To  Scudder  he  writes  shortly  after  the  council : 

New  Haven,  December  5,  1885. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Your  kind  letter  fills  me  with  sadness,  or  rather  deepens 
a  feeling  I  steadily  have  had  since  Mulford's  illness  became 
known. 

Perhaps  my  own  life  was  never  more  happy  externally — 
there  is  everything  now  to  make  it  so — but  the  shadow  of 


CHURCH  BUILDING  281 

this  dreadful  illness  is  never  absent.  ...  I  am  also  sorely 
perplexed.  My  impulse  is  to  go  to  him,  but  it  may  not  be 
best.  .  .  .  I  am  very  sure  that  Mulford  in  his  inmost  thought 
is  living  in  God,  and  even  in  a  very  great  degree,  but  this 
has  come  to  him  suddenly  and  in  the  midst  of  his  days ;  the 
disease  itself  is  the  most  depressing.  The  question  is  how 
to  minister  to  him. 

Death  came  but  a  few  days  later  and  Munger, 
after  taking  part  in  the  burial  services  at  Concord, 
wrote  further  to  Mrs.  Baker: 

My  dear  Mrs.  Baker: 

You  know,  of  course,  of  all  that  has  happened  in  Cam- 
bridge— how  suddenly  our  friend  was  snatched  away,  and 
how  his  funeral  took  place  on  Saturday,  with  burial  at 
Concord.  It  is  to  me  a  grievous  trial.  Necessarily  my 
thoughts  the  last  month  have  been  fixed  on  my  own  matters, 
but  hardly  for  a  moment  has  he  been  out  of  my  mind.  As 
I  stood  before  the  council  and  heard  the  petty  questions 
that  were  put  to  me  I  thought  of  him  and  his  great  ideas, 
and  felt  almost  an  indifference  to  what  was  going  on  around 
me.  Indeed,  if  there  had  been  anything  to  pain  me  in  recent 
experiences  it  would  have  been  lost  in  the  thought  of  him 
as  he  was  drawing  nigh  to  death.  I  would  rather  have  his 
approval  than  that  of  any  council  I  have  ever  had  to  stand 
before. 


282    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

The  organized  opposition  in  the  council  had  been 
able  to  muster  but  six  votes  on  the  final  roll-call. 
They  came,  as  Munger  reported  to  Scudder,  "two 
from  laj^men,  one  from  an  antediluv^ian,  one  from  a 
sensational  preacher,  one  from  a  revivalist,  and  one 
from  John  Todd,  who  cannot  be  classified."  Todd's 
opposition,  as  coming  from  an  old-time  friend,  how- 
ever erratic  in  character  and  reactionary  in  ecclesi- 
astical matters,  was  peculiarly  painful.  When,  years 
after,  its  author  expressed  his  keen  regret,  and  did  all 
in  his  power  to  show  his  change  of  feeling,  it  gave 
Munger  deep  satisfaction.  He  notes  with  relief  that 
"The  theological  faculty  were  all  with  me." 

The  opposition  had  indeed  small  weight  with  men 
of  the  calibre  of  Harris  and  Fisher.  Leonard  Bacon 
had  died  in  1881,  but  President  Porter  proved  him- 
self in  this  council,  as  before  at  North  Adams,  a  firm 
and  effective  ally,  taking  his  stand  on  the  "fitness  of 
the  candidate."  Later  accessions  to  the  Divinity 
Faculty,  such  as  William  Rainey  Harper,  George 
Barker  Stevens,  and  Frank  Chamberlain  Porter, 
were  to  change  the  attitude  of  toleration  into  active 
co-operation.  Hunger's  election  to  the  Yale  Cor- 
poration in  1887  was  greeted  by  men  such  as  Thayer, 
now  of  Harvard  Divinity  School,  and  Principal  C.  F. 
P.  Bancroft  of  Phillips-Andover,  as  a  triumph  of 


CHURCH  BUILDING  283 

liberalism.  Henry  L.  Pierce  of  Boston  wrote  to 
congratulate  his  old  friend  on  this  election:  "The 
hope  of  Congregationalism  is  with  the  group  of 
which  you  are  one."  But  Dr.  J.  M.  Whiton,  another 
friend  of  many  years,  had  anticipated  this.  Writing 
in  December,  1885,  after  the  installation,  he  says: 
"I  rejoice  in  your  settlement  close  beside  Smyth. 
While  so  much  noise  is  made  in  the  papers  about 
Andover,  the  good  cause  grows  at  New  Haven  as 
silently  as  the  corn." 

The  comparison  is  justified.  With  the  accession 
of  Timothy  D wight,  the  younger,  in  1886,  Yale 
became  in  name  as  it  was  in  fact  a  university.  In 
1901  its  church,  founded  in  1757,  removed  the  creed 
drawn  up  by  the  first  President  Dwight  from  a  posi- 
tion where  it  could  be  construed  as  a  barrier  to  mem- 
bership, to  one  in  which  it  served  simply  as  a 
"testimony"  to  the  historic  Trinitarian  Protestant 
faith  of  the  brotherhood.  It  also  explicitly  re- 
nounced any  denominational  character,  though  con- 
tinuing to  govern  itself  according  to  the  Congrega- 
tional order.  As  respects  the  use  of  the  creed,  similar 
action  had  been  long  in  preparation  at  the  United 
Church,  and  was  consummated  shortly  after.  Ten 
years  later  still  the  First  Church  followed  suit,  thus 
placing  the  historic  churches  of  New  Haven  in  line 


284    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

with  many  of  the  greatest  and  most  enlightened  of 
the  Congregational  order.  Once  more  the  covenant, 
not  the  creed,  became  the  basis  of  fellowship. 

If  Hunger's  liberalizing  influence  was  dominant  in 
his  own  church  and  effective  in  the  ecclesiastical 
affairs  of  the  city,  it  was  not  small  in  matters  pertain- 
ing to  the  university.  As  a  member  of  its  governing 
body  he  used  it  against  the  still  surviving  remain- 
ders of  sectarian  control,  till  with  his  own  resignation 
in  1905  he  proposed  that  the  choice  of  life  members 
should  no  longer  he  restricted  to  ministers  from  the 
State  of  Connecticut.  He  nominated  as  his  successor 
a  layman  whose  election  secured  general  approval. 
Once  and  again  his  pen  found  employment  in  prob- 
lems of  education.  In  1887  it  was  an  address  before 
the  Psi  Upsilon  Convention  in  Hartford  on  "The 
Relation  of  Education  to  Social  Progress,"  published 
in  The  Century  Magazine.  The  next  year  it  was  an 
article  in  the  same  magazine  on  "The  University  and 
the  Bible,"  dealing  with  the  difficult  question  of 
instruction,  by  scientific  teachers,  in  unsectarian  insti- 
tutions, on  subjects  long  held  in  reserve  as  the  special 
province  of  particular  sects.  In  1902  the  problem  of 
ministerial  training  called  forth  an  article  in  The 
Outlook  entitled  "The  Divinity  School  and  the  Uni- 
versity," which  was  later  reprinted  in  pamphlet  form. 


CHURCH  BUILDING  285 

Here  Munger  found  opportunity  to  show  his  loyal 
faith  in  the  school  of  Taylor  and  Bushnell.  The  occa- 
sion was  timely.  After  just  a  centurj^  of  separate 
existence,  Andover  Seminary  was  preparing  to 
return  to  the  academic  shades  of  Harvard,  whence  it 
had  departed  to  the  isolation  of  Andover  Hill  in 
protest  against  the  "liberalism"  of  the  University. 
The  example  set  by  Andover  had  been  followed 
throughout  the  country.  The  colonial  ideal  of  univer- 
sity training  for  ecclesiastical  service  was  renounced 
in  favor  of  separate  training  schools,  designated 
"seminaries,"  where  each  denomination  could  school 
its  own  teachers  in  its  own  denominational  tenets, 
usually  under  the  safeguard  of  elaborate  and  care- 
fullj^  worded  creeds,  to  which  all  instructors  must 
subscribe.  Schism  had  free  course  and  was  glorified. 
Schools  arose  for  Baptist  ministers,  Episcopal  minis- 
ters, Presbyterian  ministers,  Methodist  ministers, 
while  Harvard  itself,  though  honestly  desirous  of 
training  simply  ministers  of  Christ,  and  filling  its 
divinity  professorships  in  several  instances  with  men 
such  as  Joseph  Henry  Thaj^er,  not  belonging  to  the 
Unitarian  fold,  came  by  force  of  analogy  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  Unitarian  school.  Of  all  the  colonial 
institutions  only  Yale  remained  substantially  upon 
the  old  basis;  but  even  in  Connecticut,  which  had 


286    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

escaped  the  Unitarian  schism,  the  denominational 
spirit  had  borne  fruit  in  the  formation  of  a  "Congre- 
gational" seminary  at  East  Windsor  (subsequently 
removed  to  Hartford),  pledged  under  the  strictest 
requirement  of  a  specially  formulated  creed  and  of 
pastoral  supervision,  to  resist  the  errors  of  Dr.  Taylor 
and  his  successors  at  Yale.  Hunger's  brochure 
pointed  out  the  suicidal  results  which  must  inevitably 
foUovr  from  this  divorce  of  ministerial  training  from 
the  broader  culture  of  the  university.  The  segrega- 
tion itself  would  be  against  the  spirit  of  the  fathers 
of  Congregationalism,  to  say  nothing  of  their  abhor- 
rence of  subscription  to  creeds.  Their  thought  for 
the  institutions  they  founded  was  that  they  should 
lead  the  Christian  thought  of  successive  generations. 
A  "leadership"  which  must  be  always  reluctantly 
yielding  to  its  pressure  was  not  their  ideal. 

To  theolog}^  as  such  Munger  made  no  direct  con- 
tributions. His  service  was  practical  rather  than 
theoretic.  But  there  is  food  for  thought  in  the  title 
given  to  a  new  volume  of  sermons  published  at  the 
very  beginning  of  his  ministry  in  New  Haven.  Its 
name,  "The  Appeal  to  Life,"  shows  that  his  mind 
had  alread}'-  instinctively  moved  toward  that  unassail- 
able basis  of  authority,  to  which  the  Xew  Theology 
gravitates.     The  weakness  of  Calvinism  is  its  rigid 


CHURCH  BUILDING  287 

adherence  to  an  imperfectly  Christianized  doctrine  of 
sacred  Scripture.  "The  letter  killeth."  It  is  "the 
life,"  the  life  of  God  in  the  spirit  of  man  shining 
through  the  letter,  which  "is  the  light  of  men."  The 
biblical  writings  do  not  in  themselves  contain  eternal 
life.  They  witness  to  it.  Such  is  the  distinction 
placed  in  the  mouth  of  Jesus  by  the  greatest  of  his 
interpreters,  the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  who 
takes  up  the  protest  of  Paul  against  written  authority 
and  carries  it  to  its  logical  issue.  In  a  colloquy  be- 
tween Jesus  and  his  opponents,  the  scribes  (John  v. 
38-40) ,  he  sets  their  authority,  Moses'  law,  in  contrast 
with  the  unwritten,  inward  testimony  of  the  ever- 
living  Spirit  supremely  manifest  in  Jesus  Christ.  The 
Jewish  doctrine  of  sacred  Scripture,  inherited  from 
the  synagogue,  cannot  be  called  Christianized  till  it 
has  taken  in  this  distinction,  and  searches  the  Scrip- 
tures, not  as  containing  eternal  life  in  themselves  in 
the  form  of  creeds  to  be  believed  and  commandments 
to  be  observed,  but  as  "bearing  witness  to"  the  incar- 
nate Word  operative  in  the  lives  of  men  and  nations, 
of  Christ  and  of  the  Church. 

Biblical  criticism,  an  outcome  of  the  spirit  of  his- 
torical enquiry  so  characteristic  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  has  entailed  upon  the  Church  this  further 
reformation.     The  Christian  "seat  of  authority"  is 


288    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

neither  an  infallible  Church  nor  an  infallible  Bible, 
but  an  infallible  Spirit  of  Truth,  speaking  both 
inwardly  and  in  the  recorded  religious  experience  of 
the  past.  Germany  has  been  largely  the  home  of 
biblical  criticism.  But  New  England  has  its  share  in 
this  movement  toward  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  as  the 
basis  of  authority.  It  has  developed  by  reaction 
against  the  attempt  to  force  the  religious  experience 
of  our  own  time  into  the  strait- j  acket  of  the  past.^ 
New  England  theologj^  starting  from  an  attempted 
interpretation  of  individual  religious  experience  in 
terms  furnished  by  St.  Paul  and  Augustine  and 
Calvin,  found  itself  face  to  face  with  the  inevitable 
question  of  authority:  In  what  sense  is  Scripture  "the 
word  of  God"?  Munger,  the  preacher,  though  no 
adept  in  biblical  criticism,  felt  something  of  this 
revolt.  His  friend  Thayer  had  written  in  1883,  a 
propos  of  Newman  Smj^th's  rejection  at  Andover, 

1  Out  of  many  examples  one  of  the  most  instructive  may  be  taken 
from  the  biography  of  a  younger  contemporary  and  friend  of  Munger 
with  whom  he  had  many  points  of  sympathy.  From  Slattery's  recent 
biography  of  Prof.  A.  V.  G.  Allen,  p.  33,  we  take  the  following  extract 
from  a  letter  of  young  Allen  to  his  father:  "My  chief  obstacle  in  reli- 
gious thought  is  that  in  this  crisis  of  Christianity  I  have  discarded  the 
inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  and  they  only  appear  to  me,  as  Maurice 
has  expressed  it,  as  'phases  or  expressions  of  religious  thought.'  "  Since 
Coleridge  there  had  been  Teachings  out  after  this  truer  light  from  Scrij)- 
ture.     It  was  "finding"  men. 


CHURCH  BUILDING  289 

that  his  opponents  had  doubtless  selected  the  doctrine 
of  retribution  as  the  ground  of  attack 

because  it  lies  on  the  level  of  the  comprehension  and  the 
interest  of  the  average  unprofessional  mind.  But  the  con- 
troversy which  seems  to  be  impending  over  the  Presbyterian 
church,  respecting  the  composition  of  the  books  of  Moses, 
promises  to  bring  discussion  much  nearer  to  the  heart  of 
the  matter ;  namely,  the  true  nature  and  use  of  the  Sacred 
Scriptures. 

It  was  the  intuition  of  literary  genius  which  led 
Munger  to  entitle  his  second  volume  "The  Appeal  to 
Life."  The  opening  sermon  is  on  "The  Witness  from 
Experience"  and  puts  the  matter  as  follows: 

There  is  no  better  conception  of  God  than  as  a  Being 
who  contains  within  himself  an  eternal  humanity.  We  are 
finding  out  that  we  cannot  otherwise  escape  duaHsm,  nor 
have  a  cosmos  in  the  material  world  and  a  revelation  in  the 
moral  world.  For  a  revelation  must  have  its  basis  and  its 
method  in  a  common  nature  and  in  common  processes  of 
thought  and  feeling;  otherwise  there  are  no  avenues  and  no 
receptivity.  Thus  we  know  the  revelation  and  determine  its 
reahty,  not  by  signs  wrought,  but  by  its  accord  with  the 
general  laws  of  our  being  and  the  instinctive  feelings  of  our 
nature  as  they  come  out  in  the  natural  relations  of  life. 
We  do  not  thus  set  ourselves  over  a  revelation  to  determine 
it,  but  we  put  it  beside  human  nature  to  see  if  it  tallies  with 


290    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

it,  if  it  says  the  same  thing,  if  the  molten  metal  of  inspired 
truth  fills  the  human  mould,  if  the  deep  without  calls  to  the 
deep  within  and  is  keyed  to  the  same  eternal  note. 

Such  is  Hunger's  doctrine  of  sacred  Scripture.  It 
is  like  an  unconscious  paraphrase  of  the  Johannine: 
"The  witness  which  I  receive  is  not  from  man.  .  .  . 
The  works  that  I  do  bear  witness  of  me.  .  .  .  And  the 
Father  which  sent  me,  he  hath  borne  witness  of  me. 
Ye  have  neither  heard  his  voice  at  any  time,  nor  seen 
his  form.  Ye  have  not  his  word  abiding  in  you.  .  .  . 
Ye  search  the  scriptures,  because  ye  think  that  in  them 
ye  have  eternal  life  .  .  .  and  ye  will  not  come  unto 
me,  that  ye  maj^  have  life."  From  the  third  sermon 
on  "Truth  through  and  by  Life"  we  take  a  few 
further  M^ords : 

There  is  a  marked  avoidance  by  Christ  of  all  methods  of 
teaching  except  that  of  personal  action.  It  is  a  characteris- 
tic that  goes  to  the  very  foundations,  and  holds  up  the  whole 
structure  of  Christianity.  In  this  Christ  is  true  to  himself 
as  the  manifestation  of  God;  for  what  do  we  know  of  God 
except  by  his  works,  and  how  shall  Christ  manifest  God  truly 
except  by  works?  .  .  .  We  know  no  truth  except  by  action. 
We  can  teach  no  vital  truth  except  through  the  life.  We 
cannot  attain  to  the  eternal  joy  except  as  we  walk  step  by 
step  in  that  path  of  actual  duty  and  performance  in  which 


CHURCH  BUILDING  291 

he  walked,  who  so  gained  its  fulness  and  sat  down  at  the 
right  hand  of  the  Father. 

Like  its  predecessors,  this  new  collection  of  ser- 
mons passed  through  many  editions  and  brought 
many  expressions  of  appreciation.  We  may  cite  in 
particular  that  of  a  Pennsylvania  critic  for  its  com- 
parison of  the  author  with  some  famous  preachers: 

No  one  can  read  these  discourses  without  feeling  that  in 
Dr.  Hunger  we  have  one  of  the  strongest  preachers  the 
American  pulpit  has  yet  produced.  In  his  distinctive  char- 
acteristics he  is  unique.  Beecher  was  more  original,  start- 
ling, often  eccentric  in  his  forms  of  expression:  Dr.  Storrs 
has  a  more  luxuriant  rhetoric ;  Dr.  John  Hall  puts  more  of 
his  personal  presence,  force,  magnetism  into  his  speech; 
Phillips  Brooks,  too,  owes  more  to  his  overwhelming  flow  of 
eloquence,  and  the  direct  and  immediate  effect  of  his  pres- 
ence as  well  as  his  winning  words.  Dr.  Munger  while  as 
classic  in  his  style  as  Brooks,  less  ponderous  than  Hall,  much 
purer  and  more  concise  than  Storrs,  and  even  more  logical 
and  refined  than  Beecher,  while  as  original  and  humane,  as 
profound  and  scholarly  as  any  of  them,  yet  does  not  owe 
the  strength,  the  charm,  the  convincing  and  persuasive 
power  of  his  sermons  to  any  of  these  quaUties ;  much  less  to 
the  effect  of  liis  personal  presence,  but  solely  or  at  least 
mainly,  to  the  penetrating  reasonableness  of  what  he  says. 
In  reading  his  words,  one  thinks  not  of  the  man,  nor  even 


292    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

of  the  music  in  his  language,  but  only  of  the  entire  trueness 
of  the  truth  which  is  being  unfolded  before  us,  brought  into 
the  plane  of  our  vision,  laid  bare  for  us  in  all  its  reason- 
compeUing  and  hea^t-^vinning  strength  and  beauty.  Dr. 
Munger  reminds  me  more  of  F.  W.  Robertson  in  these 
respects  than  any  other  preacher  of  whom  I  know. 

More  welcome  than  public  praise,  however  sincere, 
were  the  private  assurances  from  strangers  far  off, 
as  well  as  from  friends  at  hand,  of  help  received — a 
reward  beyond  all  material  gain. 

Yet  the  work  had  been  wrought  out  in  sore  pain 
and  bereavement.    It  was 

Dedicated  to  the  memory  of  two  friends,  Elizabeth  Dun- 
can Munger  and  Elisha  Mulford,  one  the  dearest,  and  in 
the  dearest  relation;  the  other  the  friend  of  my  mind  as 
well  as  my  heart.  Both  have  passed  on  since  these  pages 
were  begun,  into  the  presence  of  Him  whom  they  served  and 
loved  while  they  were  upon  the  earth. 

A  large  part  of  the  year  1886  had  been  shadowed 
by  Mrs.  Munger's  fatal  illness  and  on  Sunday,  Octo- 
ber 3,  the  end  came.  The  brief  records  of  the  diary, 
which  show  how  tender  had  been  the  care  lavished  on 
the  sufferer,  conclude  with  the  simple  entry : 

A.  M.  Preached  on  Not  Knowing  the  Times  and  Seasons. 
My  dear  wife  died  this  day  at  3.30.     She  was  conscious  up 


CHURCH  BUILDING  293 

to  my  going  to  church  and  expressed  satisfaction  at  my 
going,  and  knew  me  on  my  return.  Her  end  was  peaceful. 
This  is  the  birthday  of  Thornton,  three  years  old.  We  were 
married  twenty-two  years  ago,  October  12,  1864. 

The  funeral  services  in  New  Haven  on  October  5 
were  in  charge  of  Professor  Brastow  of  the  Divinity 
School,  assisted  by  President  Dwight  and  Dr.  George 
Bushnell,  brother  of  the  great  Hartford  divine,  while 
Prof.  J.  H.  Thayer  took  charge  of  those  in  Haverhill, 
where  the  interment  took  place.  The  coincidence  of 
these  dates  with  those  of  the  memorable  meeting  of 
the  American  Board  at  Des  Moines,  Iowa,  sufficiently 
explains  why  Munger  did  not  attend.  Under  other 
circumstances  this  meeting,  beyond  any  other  Con- 
gregational convention,  would  have  commanded  his 
presence  along  with  his  friends,  Vose  and  Jenkins,  and 
the  brothers,  Egbert  and  Newman  Smyth ;  for  it  was 
on  this  occasion  that  for  a  second  time  Munger's 
championship  of  the  cause  of  catholicity  against  the 
denominationalists  had  much  to  do  with  bringing  the 
issue  to  determination.  In  the  diary  under  Tuesday, 
September  28,  we  find  the  entry:  "I  prepared  the 
letter  to  the  Prudential  Committee^  in  the  Hume  case, 
Professor  Brastow  having  drafted  it.  It  was  adopted 
at  the  meeting  this  evening.  Dr.  Geo.  Bushnell  pre- 

2  Of  the  American  Board. 


294.    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

siding."  The  famous  leader  in  the  ^Nlarathi  ^Mission 
in  India,  Robert  Allen  Hume,  later  decorated  by- 
Queen  Victoria  with  the  Kaisir-y-Hind  gold  medal 
for  his  efficient  service  during  the  famine  of  1902, 
was  a  member  of  the  United  Church.  At  home  on 
furlough,  he  had  made  certain  utterances  regarding 
"the  larger  hope,"  which  aroused  the  suspicions  of  the 
guardians  of  orthodoxy.  The  denominationalists  in 
the  churches,  already  successful  in  controlling  the 
Andover  Board  of  Visitors,  were  eager  now  to  employ 
the  machinery  of  the  American  Board  to  the  same 
end.  The  home  secretary.  Dr.  E.  K.  Alden,  charged 
by  the  Prudential  Committee  with  the  examination 
of  all  candidates  as  to  fitness,  was  entirely  of  their 
way  of  thinking.  An  exphcit  declaration  of  the 
Board  at  its  meeting  in  Salem,  Mass.,  in  1871, 
declares  that 

Neither  this  Board  nor  its  Prudential  Committee  are  in 
any  sense  a  Theological  Court  to  settle  doctrinal  points  of 
belief,  but  a  body  instituted  by  the  churches  to  make  known 
the  gospel  of  Christ  among  the  heathen  .  .  .  and  establish 
churches  among  them  maintaining  that  faith,  and  that  only, 
which  is  universally  received  by  those  Christian  bodies  whose 
agents  they  are.^ 

3  The  American  Board  remains  one  of  the  few  survivals  of  Old  Con- 
gregationalism in  being  still  undenominational,  although  since  its  origi- 
nal formation  Presbyterians  and  others  have  organized  boards  of  their 


CHURCH  BUn^DING  295 

In  spite  of  this,  Dr.  Alden  construed  his  instruc- 
tions to  include  rejection  of  all  candidates  who  should 
not  conform  to  his  definition  of  orthodoxy,  however 
small  the  minority  in  which  he  might  find  himself. 

The  twenty-five  commissioners  of  the  National 
Council  of  1880  appointed  to  prepare  a  creed  repre- 
senting the  present-day  belief  of  the  Congregational 
churches  had  reported  in  1883  as  directed  "not  to  this 
Council,  but  to  the  churches  and  to  the  world  through 
the  public  press,"  a  "Statement  of  Belief"  intended 
"to  carry  such  weight  of  authority  as  the  character  of 
the  Commission  and  the  intrinsic  merit  of  their  exposi- 
tion of  truth  may  command."  Three  of  the  twenty- 
five  commissioners  declined  to  sign  this  document,  one 
because  of  inability  to  attend  the  meetings,  two,  of 
whom  Dr.  Alden  was  one,  because  it  failed  adequately 
to  represent  their  views  in  certain  particulars.  Dr. 
Alden  considered  his  continuation  in  the  office  of  home 
secretary  a  warrant  for  requiring  all  candidates  for 
missionary  service  to  measure  up  to  this  (to  his  mind) 
higher  standard  of  orthodoxy.  Certain  printed  for- 
mulae of  belief  of  Dr.  Alden's  choosing  were  submitted 
to  candidates  for  missionary  service,  testing  them  on 

ovm.  Other  boards,  such  as  the  Board  of  Home  Missions,  have  yielded 
to  the  pressure  of  the  denominationalists  and  changed  their  titles  to 
include  the  sectarian  designation  "Congregational."  The  American 
Board  is  stiU  "agent  for  Christian  bodies"  other  than  Congregationalists. 


296    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

the  special  points  of  "the  divine  authority  and  inspira- 
tion of  the  Scriptures,  the  propitiatory  sacrifice  upon 
the  cross,  and  the  final  judgment,  the  issues  of  which 
will  be  determined  by  the  deeds  done  in  the  body." 
Dr.  Alden  by  his  own  statement  was  unwilling  "to 
admit  that  Presbj^terians  were  ahead  of*  Congrega- 
tionalists  in  soundness  of  faith,"  and  hence  not  only 
rejected  candidates  otherwise  unexceptionable  who 
seemed  to  him  to  reflect  the  views  of  Andover,  but 
even  such  as  professed  ignorance  of  or  indifference  to 
the  Andover  hypothesis,  but  refused  to  positively 
disavow  it.  In  this  category  were  included  some  of 
the  choicest  men  of  Yale  Divinity  School,  rejected 
really  for  refusing  to  be  intolerant.  In  pursuance  of 
the  same  policy  of  using  the  agencies  created  by  the 
churches  to  commit  the  "denomination"  to  a  creedal 
standard  "like  the  Presbyterians,"  the  Prudential 
Committee  by  majority  vote  had  gone  to  the  length 
of  refusing  to  return  Dr.  Hume  to  his  work  in  India. 
It  is  to  these  acts  of  the  home  secretary  and  the  Pru- 
dential Committee  that  reference  is  made  in  the  fol- 
lowing extracts  from  the  speech  of  Prof.  Egbert  C. 
Smyth  at  the  Des  Moines  meeting"  of  the  Board. 

*  The  term  "ahead"  refers  to  the  reactionary  leadership  of  "Princeton 
Theological  Seminary,"  and  is  of  course  to  be  interpreted  in  a  reverse 
sense  as  in  certain  types  of  races. 

6  Reported  in  "The  Great  Debate:  A  Verbatim  Report  of  the  Discus- 


CHURCH  BUILDING  297 

I  turn  to  another  case  [Mr.  Morse] — a  member  of  Yale 
Theological  Seminary,  having  as  high  testimonials  as  I  have 
almost  ever  heard  presented  before  our  Committee,  the 
president  of  the  Society  of  Inquiry®  in  that  institution, 
commended  by  an  association  of  ministers — the  most  con- 
servative of  them  joining  in  the  recommendation — for  his 
soundness  in  the  faith  of  Christ,  commended  by  Dr.  Samuel 
Harris  and  by  Prof.  Geo.  P.  Fisher  in  earnest  letters,  and 
by  the  former  in  a  subsequent  appeal  to  the  Committee. 
This  man  wanted  to  go  to  India,  where  our  missions  are 
almost  at  a  standstill,  and  some  of  them  in  important  locali- 
ties are  almost  at  an  end  today  for  the  lack  of  laborers. 
What  is  his  statement.?  "I  am  not  prepared  to  affirm  that 
aU  those  are  lost  who  do  not  receive  the  gospel  in  this  life. 
.  .  .  All  I  mean  with  reference  to  the  hypothesis  of  a  second 
probation  is  that  I  do  not  know.  Practically  it  affects 
neither  my  belief  nor  my  preaching." 

After  pointing  out  that  the  candidates  had  been 
rejected  not  for  holding  any  objectionable  beliefs, 
nor  for  questioning  any  of  "the  doctrines  universally 
held  by  the  churches  sustaining  the  Board"  (the  offi- 
cial requirement),  but  solely  for  refusing  to  join  the 
home  secretary  and  the  party  represented  by  him  in 
"putting  into  the  Gospel  what  the  Gospel  itself  does 

sion  at  the  Meeting  of  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for 
Foreign  Missions,  Held  at  Des  Moines,  Iowa,  October  7,  1886,"  Hough- 
ton &  Mifflin,  1886,  pp.  16f. 

6  Corresponding  to  the  "Student  Volunteer"  bands  of  today. 


298  THEODORE  THORNTON  IMUNGER 

not  contain,  and  what  the  creeds  of  Christendom  have 
not  put  there,"  the  speaker  continued: 

You  had  a  Commission  comprising  many  of  the  most 
eminent  men  of  our  denomination  to  state  what  is  the  faith 
of  the  churches  today.  They  discussed  this  question,  and 
they  purposely  omitted  the  very  declaration  which  has  been 
made  an  absolute  test  of  fitness  to  serve  under  this  Board. 
So  much  so,  that  not  when  an  applicant  simply,  but  when 
a  missionary  of  long  standing  [Hume],  one  of  the  brightest 
and  one  of  the  most  trusted  and  revered  and  beloved  of  men 
on  the  roll  of  our  missionaries,  wanted  to  go  out  to  take  up 
his  work,  which  had  almost  come  to  an  end  in  liis  absence, 
he  was  not  allowed  to  go  because  he  would  not  make  that 
declaration. 

Hunger  had  taken  a  deep  interest  in  the  score  of 
young  men  in  Yale  Divinity  School  who  were  looking 
forward  to  service  under  the  Board,  and  had  co- 
operated with  Smj^th  in  securing  the  protest  of  Presi- 
dent Dwight  and  members  of  the  Divinity  Faculty 
against  the  imposition  of  new  doctrinal  requirements. 
His  chief  interest,  however,  had  been  in  Mr.  Hume, 
because  of  his  relation  to  the  United  Church,  and  its 
letter  of  protest  to  the  Board,  though  couched  in  fit- 
ting terms  of  respect,  was  explicit  on  the  question  of 
order  and  regularity : 

Mr.   Hume's   standing  as   a  Christian  teacher  has   never 


CHURCH  BUILDING  299 

been  called  in  question  by  his  Church,  nor  by  any  council  of 
churches,  and  we  question  the  moral  right  and  equity  of 
a  procedure  on  the  part  of  the  Prudential  Committee  of  the 
American  Board,  by  which  without  adequate  examination, 
without  a  hearing,  without  a  statement  of  reasons,  and  with- 
out reference  of  the  case  to  a  competent  body  of  represen- 
tatives of  the  churches  in  council,  his  fair  name  is  tarnished 
and  his  ecclesiastical  position  is  compromised  and  discredited 
in  the  eyes  of  the  public.  ...  It  seems  to  us  also  a  wrong 
done  the  Christian  Churches  which  have  set  him  apart  as 
a  Christian  missionary,  and  have  secured  him  his  ecclesiasti- 
cal standing ;  and  we  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  your  action 
in  this  case  appears  to  us  to  involve  a  usurpation  of  ecclesi- 
astical prerogative — a  usurpation  which  imperils  the  integ- 
rity and  purity  of  our  Church  order,  and  tends  to  paralyze 
the  cause  of  missions,  and  to  put  in  jeopardy  the  work  and 
the  standing  of  every  missionary  in  the  foreign  field  who 
does  not  yield  assent  to  an  unnecessary  test  of  fitness  for 
the  missionary  service. 

The  letter  from  President  Dwight  was  also  influ- 
ential. It  urged  the  reference  of  questions  of  doctrine 
to  councils  as  "the  highest  authority  known  to  our 
Congregational  system  so  far  as  the  matter  of  minis- 
terial standing  is  concerned,"  and  after  declaring  how 
little  interest  was  felt  at  New  Haven  for  the  hypothe- 
sis of  a  second  probation,  affirmed  that : 

All  matters  having  relation  to  the  Congregational  system 


800    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

are  of  great  consequence.  I  cannot  but  tliink  that  the  Con- 
gregational way  of  settling  this  question  is  the  wisest  way, 
and  that  the  provisions  of  our  system  of  councils,  with  such 
arrangements  of  detail  as  may  approve  themselves,  will  meet 
the  case  most  satisfactorily.  Is  not  the  inter^'ention  of 
another  body,  unknown  to  our  polity  and  not  immediately 
representative  of  the  churches,  a  thing  likely  to  be  attended 
with  danger  sooner  or  later?  Should  not  such  danger  be 
carefully  avoided?  I  commend  these  questions  to  your 
careful  and  serious  consideration. 

The  plan  advocated  by  this  letter  had  been  fore- 
shadowed by  Vose  at  the  opening  of  the  session. 
Alone  against  the  other  six  members  of  a  committee 
appointed  to  report  on  the  report  of  the  Prudential 
Committee  and  home  secretary,  he  had  offered  a  sug- 
gestion of  the  kind  as  an  amendment  to  their  sweep- 
ing endorsement  of  the  home  secretary's  course. 

A  settlement  of  the  Hume  case  on  this  basis  was 
pressed  upon  the  Prudential  Committee  "at  its  very 
earliest  convenience,"  and  in  response  to  this  vote  of 
the  Board  Mr.  Hume  was  finally  returned  to  his  work 
in  India.  This  ensured  the  most  vital  points  for 
which  Munger  and  the  New  Haven  divines  had  con- 
tended; but  more  than  one  annual  meeting  of  the 
Board  was  stirred  by  echoes  of  the  conflict.  Slowly 
but  surely  the  principle  of  catholicity  prevailed.    The 


CHURCH  BUILDING  301 

"Andover  hypothesis"  died  a  natural  death,  but  in 
one  more  crisis  of  Congregationalism  schism  was 
averted  by  the  principle  of  "variety  in  unity."  The 
denominationalists  were  obliged  to  seek  other  methods 
of  assimilation  to  "the  Presbyterians." 

The  question  of  the  adoption  of  a  denominational 
creed  had  already  reached  a  settlement,  as  appears 
from  the  references  of  the  speakers  at  Des  Moines. 
A  "creed"  had  been  framed  and  given  to  the  public 
in  1883,  but  it  was  never  adopted  by  any  representa- 
tive body,  and  remained  simply  the  expression  of  the 
score  of  leading  Congregationalists  who  compiled  it 
as  to  the  beliefs  then  generally  current.  It  did  not 
attempt  to  speak  for  the  church  catholic,  but  neither 
did  it  attempt  to  commit  the  "denomination."  It  was 
a  "declaration"  for  such  as  wished  to  know  the  doc- 
trines then  commonly  held,  and  had  no  other  author- 
ity. It  was  a  "testimony"  and  not  a  test,  and  as  such 
remains  a  proof  of  spiritual  continuity  without  sacri- 
fice of  catholicity. 

The  early  years  of  Munger's  New  Haven  pastorate 
brought  repeated  bereavements  among  the  circle  of 
his  older  friends.  The  beginning  of  1891  was  marked 
by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Walter  Baker,  1892  by  the 
death  of  his  brother  Hezekiah,  who  had  removed  to 
Kansas   in    1888,    and    1895    by   that   of   his    sister 


302    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Cynthia.  In  1897  came  that  of  Henry  L.  Pierce,  of 
whom  Wendell  Phillips  had  said,  during  his  term  of 
service  as  mayor  of  Boston:  "Diogenes  in  search  of 
an  honest  man  in  Boston  would  have  found  him  in  the 
ma3^or's  chair."  Hunger  attended  the  obsequies  of 
both  these  Dorchester  friends  and  prepared  fitting 
tributes  to  their  lives  and  public  service.^  In  May, 
1900,  he  was  summoned  to  the  funeral  of  his  "life-long 
friend,"  Frank  B.  Carpenter,  whose  death  made  him 
feel  more  keenly  than  ever  the  narrowing  of  the  circle. 
One  of  the  lines  of  labor  which  had  brought  relief 
to  Munger  from  the  pain  of  bereavement  had  been 
the  Hume  case,  with  its  issues  bearing  on  catholicity 
in  the  Congregational  polity.  Literary  work  gave 
him  another.  "The  Appeal  to  Life"  was  followed  by 
many  important  articles  in  The  Outlook,  The  Inde- 
pendent, The  Century,  The  New  World,  and  the 
London  Christian  World.  The  titles,  "Personal  Im- 
pressions of  Ehsha  Mulford"  in  1886,  "The  Works 
of  Elisha  Mulford"  in  1888,  "The  Religious  Influence 
of  Whittier"  in  1892,  "Oliver  Wendell  Holmes"  in 
1895,  show  Munger's  desire  to  serve  as  literary  critic 
and  interpreter,  and  to  reenforce  the  influence  of 
men  of  insight  and  genius.     Other  articles  are  on 

7  Under  the  title,  "An  American  Citizen,  Henry  L.  Pierce,"  in  The 
Century  for  July,  1897,  and  a  "Memorial"  to  Mrs.  Walter  Baker,  pub- 
lished in   1895. 


CHURCH  BUILDING  303 

subjects  of  social  and  religious  signijficance,  such  as 
"Immortality  and  Modern  Thought"  and  "Evolution 
and  the  Faith"  in  The  Century  for  1885  and  1886, 
"Recent  Changes  in  Religious  Thought"  in  The 
Christian  Union  for  1892,  and  "The  Family  as  a 
Factor  in  Society"  in  The  Congregationalist  for  1893. 
The  years  1896  and  1897  saw  the  appearance  in  Eng- 
land of  "Character  Through  Inspiration,"  a  group 
of  sermons  originally  published  in  The  Christian 
World  J  and  in  America  "Plain  Living  and  High 
Thinking,"  a  New  Year  "homily  on  the  use  of 
money."  This  was  a  sermon  of  sound  and  practical 
advice,  appljang  the  Wordsworthian  principle  which 
the  older  New  Haven  society  had  boasted  as  its  motto. 
There  were  also  public  addresses,  such  as  that  we  have 
referred  to  on  "Education  and  Social  Progress,"  at 
Hartford  in  1887;  historical  discourses  at  the  one 
hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  United 
Church  in  1892;  and  the  two  hundredth  of  the  church 
in  Haddam,  Conn.  Similar  discourses  were  delivered 
at  Homer  and  North  Adams  on  anniversaries  of  the 
respective  churches.  In  1898,  he  gave  at  Harvard 
the  Noble  Lecture  on  "The  Message  of  Christ  to  the 
Will."  But  the  literary  work  of  this  period  reached 
its  climax  in  the  book  published  in  1899  under  the 
title,  "Horace  Bushnell,  Preacher  and  Theologian." 


304    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Ten  years  before  Hunger  had  been  urged  by  Mr. 
Scudder,  of  the  firm  of  Houghton  &  ^Mifflin,  to 
prepare  a  life  of  Bushnell,  but  had  declined.  He 
writes  in  1888: 

I  hardly  know  what  to  say  to  you  about  the  Bushnell. 
...  I  doubt  if  I  ought  to  undertake  it.  The  fact  is  my 
place  and  pulpit  require  all  my  time  and  strength.  Each 
is  as  sharply  determined  as  the  other.  I  must  keep  my 
pulpit  up  to  the  mark.  Every  consideration  demands  this. 
And  then  there  is  no  end  to  the  other  time-consuming  and 
strength-exhausting  work. 

He  adds  suggestions  of  other  possible  biographers, 
particularly  Rev.  Amos  S.  Chesborough  of  Saybrook, 
and  concludes: 

My  hesitation  is  chiefly  a  matter  of  conscience.  If  I  felt 
that  I  had  a  right  I  would  gladly  undertake  the  work  and 
see  what  I  could  do  with  it,  though  to  tell  the  truth  I  have 
not  much  heart  for  anything. 

The  sense  of  physical  depression  and  feeling  of  the 
strain  of  work  apparent  in  this  letter  is  easy  to  ex- 
plain. The  intense  energy  of  labor  expended  after 
his  bereavement  in  1886  was  bringing  its  reaction.  A 
trip  to  England  in  the  summer  of  1887  accompanied 
by  his  two  older  daughters  had  failed  to  bring  the 
expected  reinvigoration.  Gradually  his  strength 
returned.     By  1896  he  felt  able  to  undertake  new 


CHURCH  BUILDING  305 

literary  work  without  detriment  to  the  interests  of 
his  church  and  turned  to  the  task  as  a  true  labor  of 
love. 

Munger  had  not  only  the  qualities  of  a  critic  of  reli- 
gious literature  but,  as  we  have  seen,  his  indebtedness 
to  Bushnell  as  a  leader  of  the  religious  thought  and 
life  of  New  England  made  the  work  an  unconscious 
expression  of  his  own  personality. 

The  venerable  widow  and  her  children  heartily 
welcomed  such  a  biographer  and  lent  him  their  co- 
operation. Yet  congenial  as  was  the  task,  Munger 
felt  that  it  required  his  best  and  most  conscientious 
effort,  and  once  begun  he  spared  no  pains.  As  to  his 
success  we  may  accept  the  judgment  of  one  who  was 
both  a  litterateur  and  a  friend  of  Bushnell.  In  a 
letter  dated  October  3,  1899,  Charles  Dudley  Warner 
wrote  : 

You  have  made  an  adequate,  very  definite  and  magnificent 
portrait  of  one  of  the  most  masterful  and  original  men  of 
our  American  generation.  You  have  made  his  character, 
and  especially  his  work,  stand  out  with  great  vividness,  and 
I  think  at  this  time  it  was  necessary  to  mark  for  the  public 
exactly  what  Bushnell  did  for  his  age.  You  have  done  this 
with  such  lucidity  and  vigor  of  expression,  such  closeness  of 
analysis  and  contrast  as  to  make  the  narrative  one  of 
extraordinary  interest. 


306    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

The  significance  of  the  verdict  appears  in  the  clos- 
ing sentence  of  the  book : 

The  recognition  of  Bushnell  will  grow  as  the  theological 
crisis  passes  and  leaves  the  New  England  theology  of  the 
past  standing  out  in  its  full  and  bare  proportions,  and  in 
contrast  with  that  which  seems  to  be  taking  shape  under 
conceptions  of  God  and  man  and  evil  and  redemption  that 
accord  with  modem  thought  and  with  the  great  law  by  which 
all  things  are  interpreted.  Then  it  wiU  be  seen  how  pivotal 
was  his  work  in  a  transition  that  will  grow  more  significant 
as  the  contrast  deepens  between  what  was  driven  out  and 
what  was  brought  in.  It  will  be  said  of  him  as  Hamack 
said  of  Luther:  "He  liberated  the  natural  life,  and  the 
natural  order  of  things." 

Bushnell  stood  indeed  for  New  England  theolog}^ 
at  a  transition  point  between  the  old  order  and  the 
new.  He  led  over  from  conceptions  of  transcendence 
and  supernaturalism  to  conceptions  of  immanence  and 
evolution.  It  was  fitting  that  a  New  England  min- 
ister, a  Puritan  preacher  of  the  New  Haven  school, 
should  be  his  biographer. 

But  it  was  neither  to  the  field  of  ecclesiastical  polity 
nor  to  literature  that  Hunger  chiefly  gave  himself.  It 
was  to  the  upbuilding  of  the  historic  parish  that  had 
been  committed  to  his  care.     On  this  point  we  may 


CHURCH  BUILDING  307 

well  cite  the  testimony  of  a  daughter  who  had  become 
increasingly  his  dependence  in  literary  work : 

In  looking  over  the  New  Haven  diaries,  the  thing  that 
especially  impressed  me  was  the  same  thing  that  marked  the 
North  Adams  Hfe — and  it  could  not  have  been  otherwise — 
a  steady  and  persistent  doing  of  the  thing  to  be  done  next. 
There  was  much  parish  calling,  the  attempt  to  know  and 
place  the  parish.  He  early  became  a  regular  attendant  of 
the  Monday  Ministers'  Meeting,  I  think  for  the  reason  that 
he  felt  that  it  was  an  institution  of  real  value  and  that  it 
was  a  part  of  his  work  to  help  make  it  more  so.  He  soon 
began  to  take  part  in  the  meetings  of  the  various  charitable 
societies  of  the  city,  and  his  growing  reputation  brought 
him  many  invitations  to  speak  and  lecture.  But  it  was  to 
the  church  that  he  gave  the  main  part  of  his  strength,  and 
the  task  of  making  it  a  really  United  one  was  one  which 
called  for  tact  and  patience.  There  was  a  union  of  some- 
what divergent  social  elements  to  be  accomplished  as  well 
as  theological  distrust  to  be  overcome.  But  the  church  has 
always  shown  a  fine  spirit  and  a  fine  loyalty,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  all  had  confidence  in  him. 

I  am  also  impressed  by  the  story  of  work  accomphshed. 
Besides  his  Kterary  and  parish  work,  there  were  many  other 
duties.  He  was  a  frequent  attendant  at  the  University  and 
Seminary  lectures  and  he  enjoyed  keenly  the  social  life  of 
New  Haven.  His  interest  in  the  Seminary  was  deep,  and 
his  influence  over  the  students  a  very  real  one.     For  a  long 


308    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

series  of  years  many  of  them  came  frequently  to  talk  over 
with  him  the  questions  which  arose  as  they  looked  forward 
towards  their  professional  life  and  out  of  his  own  wide 
experience  he  gave  them  all  that  he  could.  His  friendly 
intercourse  with  professors  both  in  the  University  and 
Seminary  was  full  of  help  given  and  received,  as  great 
questions  of  life  and  letters  and  science  were  discussed. 

He  was  very  regular  in  his  attendance  upon  the  meetings 
of  the  Yale  Corporation  and  for  several  years  a  member  of 
its  Prudential  Committee.  The  diaries  make  little  mention 
of  what  he  did  there,  the  chief  points  of  which  they  speak 
being  his  share  in  the  establishment  of  the  Yale  Music 
School,  and  in  the  changes  made  in  1894  in  the  conduct  of 
the  public  exercises  at  the  Yale  Commencement. 

With  his  growing  reputation,  his  correspondence  became 
an  increasing  tax  upon  him,  and  many  hours  were  given  to 
letter-writing.  A  large  part  of  this  correspondence  was  in 
reply  to  appeals  for  advice  on  difficult  theological  or  reh- 
gious  questions.  I  am  continually  surprised  at  the  power 
of  work  which  as  a  man  past  sixty  he  showed.  We  had  never 
thought  him  very  strong,  but  I  suppose  the  secret  of  it  was 
that  he  worked  without  fret  or  worry.  I  cannot  account 
for  it  in  any  other  way. 

Early  in  the  nineties  he  saw  clearly  that  the  work  of  a 
large  church  was  more  than  one  man  could  do  as  it  should 
be  done,  and  thereafter  it  was  shared  with  an  assistant 
pastor. 


CHURCH  BUILDING  309 

Miss  Munger  writes  also  of  her  father's  conscien- 
tious attendance  at  State  Association  and  Conference 
meetings,  and  similar  ecclesiastical  gatherings : 

He  was  often  speaker  or  preacher,  but  I  think  he  went 
to  them  as  a  matter  of  principle.  This  may  have  grown 
out  of  the  same  feehng  that  made  him  think  of  the  Episcopal 
church  as  possibly  his  when  he  was  a  young  man — the  need 
of  a  firm  organization  to  conserve  work. 

There  was  in  addition  the  work  of  the  national 
"Committee  of  Fifty  to  Investigate  the  Liquor  Prob- 
lem," of  which  he  was  an  active  member,  furnishing 
carefully  prepared  reports.  The  work  it  accom- 
plished ma}^  be  learned  from  the  volumes  issued  by  the 
committee. 

Edification  was  the  pastor's  prime  consideration, 
and  even  in  outside  service  he  did  not  move  alone,  but 
with  the  support  of  his  people.  His  annual  report 
was  in  the  form  of  a  sermon  preached  as  soon  after 
the  January  church  meeting  as  possible,  in  order  to 
secure  the  widest  possible  publicity  and  interest  in  the 
work  accomplished.  The  Sunday  service,  careful  as 
was  the  preparation  for  it,  was  not  exalted  at  the 
expense  of  the  mid-week  prayer  meeting.  His  papers 
include  a  great  number  of  outlines  for  addresses  on 
these  occasions,  much  care  being  lavished  on  them. 


310  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

From  the  beginning  of  his  pastorate  the  importance 
of  the  missionary  work  of  the  denomination  had 
appealed  to  him,  and  he  felt  deeply  the  necessity  of 
interesting  his  church  in  this  larger  work.  His 
years  in  the  United  Church  saw  large  increase  in  the 
contributions,  and  so  far  as  he  was  able  he  kept  before 
his  congregation  the  great  work  which  the  American 
Board  was  doing.  Especially  was  he  a  loyal  friend 
and  supporter  of  the  church's  representative,  Robert 
A.  Hume. 

In  the  years  of  physical  and  nervous  depression 
which  had  followed  upon  his  bereavement,  jNIunger 
had  written  to  a  friend,  "^Vhen  the  dam  has  been 
carried  away  it  is  not  of  much  use  for  the  miller  to  try 
to  keep  the  mill  going."  The  home  life  with  its  family 
prayer,  its  evening  readings  from  the  best  literature, 
its  training  of  childhood,  its  intercourse  with  friends 
and  guests,  had  indeed  been  like  the  storing  up  of 
quiet  waters  of  refreshment  and  invigoration ;  and 
though  the  older  daughters  were  now  of  an  age  to 
assume  the  cares  of  the  household  and  the  younger 
children,  and  Rose  was  sharing  in  her  father's  literary 
work  as  secretary,  the  mother's  death  had  been  not 
only  a  bereavement  to  Hunger's  heart,  but  a  loss  diffi- 
cult to  measure  to  the  efficiency  of  his  ministry.  No 
better  gift  could  have  come  to  the  church,  nor  the 


CHURCH  BUILDING  311 

home,  nor  to  himself,  than  that  which  came  on  Hun- 
ger's birthday  (March  5,  1889)  when  he  was  married 
to  Miss  Harriet  King  Osgood,  daughter  of  John 
Christopher  Osgood  of  Salem,  Mass.  Soon  after  his 
engagement  in  the  preceding  year  Dr.  Munger  had 
bought  a  lot  on  Prospect  Street,  the  "Tutor's  Lane" 
of  old  college  times,  a  stone's  throw  from  some  of  the 
memorable  scenes  of  his  own  and  his  father's  college 
days,  and  here  in  due  time  an  attractive  house  was 
erected,  whose  windows  looked  off  over  the  valley 
toward  West  Rock  and  the  setting  sun. 

Miss  Osgood  was  no  new  acquaintance.  Since  her 
childhood  she  had  known  and  held  in  affectionate 
esteem  the  friend  of  her  parents  and  kinsfolk.  Like 
a  number  of  others  she  had  stood  almost  in  the  relation 
of  an  adopted  daughter  to  ^Irs.  Walter  Baker  in 
Dorchester.  This  had  led  to  better  mutual  acquaint- 
ance, and  the  friendship  had  grown  through  the  close 
association  of  her  uncle.  Professor  George  P.  Jewett, 
with  Munger's  friend  Thayer  in  the  editing  of  the 
great  lexicon  of  New  Testament  Greek.  The  opening 
day  of  Munger's  sixtieth  year  brought  him  with  the 
renewal  of  earth's  dearest  bond  a  return  of  the  peace 
which  multiplies  man's  power  and  gives  to  life  its 
consummation  of  fulness  and  efficiency. 

Rarely  is  it  possible  for  a  pastor's  wife  to  enter  into 


312    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

his  work  with  such  helpful  efficiency  as  did  Mrs. 
Hunger.  She  helped  her  husband  in  liis  literary 
work,  particularly  in  his  "Life  of  Horace  Bushnell." 
But  it  was  in  the  parish  that  her  great  gifts  of  organi- 
zation and  guidance  found  full  scope.  There  she  was 
invariably  at  his  side,  and  some  of  the  most  effective 
agencies  in  the  church  were  developed  under  her  direc- 
tion. The  retrospect  made  by  Dr.  Hunger  in  1906 
closes  with  an  enumeration  of  the  distinctive  institu- 
tions of  the  United  Church,  in  which,  after  reference 
to  the  New  Year  morning  service  and  the  exceptional 
growi;h  of  its  Sunday-schooP  and  work  among  the 
poor,  its  "most  memorable  feature"  was  pronounced 
to  be  "the  Sunday  afternoon  service  in  the  chapel." 
This  was  intended  for  mothers  and  other  women 
whose  household  cares  made  attendance  at  the  morn- 
ing service  difficult  or  impossible.  It  consisted  of  a 
devotional  service,  simple  but  beautiful  and  uplifting, 
and  a  talk  on  some  subject  carefully  chosen  with  refer- 
ence to  its  helpfulness  in  the  lives  of  the  hearers.  It 
was  the  special  imdertaking  and  charge  of  Hrs. 
Hunger,  and  grew  rapidly  from  a  small  group  to  an 
enrolment  of  270.  Children  whose  mothers  had 
brought  them  to  this  service  as  infants,  for  whose 
care   special  provision  was   made,   later  came   into 

8  Attributed  to  "the  devoted  service  of  Mr.  W.  R.  Downs." 


CHURCH  BUILDING  313 

organizations  within  the  church.  Bushnell's  "Chris- 
tian Nurture"  was  thus  working  itself  out  in  practical 
form.  Munger's  verdict  was:  "If  it  were  asked  in 
what  respect  the  church  comes  nearest  the  Christian 
ideal,  I  would  say,  'Without  doubt  in  the  Sunday 
afternoon  service.'  " 

Like,  and  yet  unlike  in  its  service  to  the  city,  was  the 
Men's  Club,  an  organization  of  many  of  the  more 
thoughtful  men  of  the  church,  including  graduates  or 
men  otherwise  connected  with  the  university.  Its 
function  was  the  providing  of  public  addresses  in  the 
church  on  Sunday  evenings  during  the  winter  months, 
on  matters  of  social,  ethical,  and  civic  interest.  A  list 
of  the  subjects  discussed  would  cover  almost  every 
theme  of  current  interest  connected  with  religion, 
civics,  or  philanthropy.  The  sessions  of  the  club  began 
with  a  discussion  of  "Ways  in  which  Protestants  and 
Catholics  can  Cooperate,"  Judge  Baldwin  presenting 
the  Protestant  irenicon,  and  Judge  Robinson,  a  lead- 
ing layman  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  Catholic, 
while  a  Catholic  priest  sat  in  the  pulpit  with  the 
pastor. 

The  speakers  on  these  occasions  were  naturally 
secured  largely  from  the  wide  circle  of  Dr.  Munger's 
friends,  and  included  many  authorities  of  world-wide 
fame,  and  many  temporary  or  permanent  lecturers 


314    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

in  the  university.  Xot  the  least  notable  feature  of 
the  occasion  would  be  the  gathering  of  a  few  choice 
spirits  in  the  home  on  Prospect  Street  to  prolong  the 
discussion,  while  the  speaker — as  a  rule  the  pastor's 
guest — made  good  liis  points  at  the  expense  of  much 
midnight  oil. 

To  catalogue  the  activities  of  Hunger's  Xew 
Haven  church  would  require  a  reprint  of  its  manual, 
and  after  all  would  only  repeat  the  story  of  many  and 
manj'^  an  active,  vigorous  organization  directed  under 
competent  and  experienced  leadership  to  the  upbuild- 
ing of  Christian  character  in  individuals,  in  the  home, 
and  in  the  mvmicipality.  Nor  was  its  work  confined  to 
city  or  state.  If  in  any  respect  INIunger's  mark  was 
more  distinctively  set  upon  it  than  in  any  other,  it  was 
in  making  it  not  only  a  "united"  but  a  missionary 
church. 

The  fifteen  years  that  rounded  out  Hunger's 
"three  score  years  and  ten"  were  years  of  rich  and 
fruitful  labor  in  literature,  in  civic  and  educational 
improvement,  in  individual  encouragement,  advice, 
and  help  to  scores,  especially  young  men  attracted  by 
his  books  and  his  preaching,  but  their  central  interest 
was  the  work  of  church-building.  And  when  at 
nature's  appointed  time  the  burden  was  laid  down,  it 
was  with  a  charge  corresponding  to  that  with  which 


CHURCH  BUILDING  315 

his  service  had  begun.  His  opening  sermon  had  been 
on  "The  Gates  of  the  Church,"  a  vision  of  the  church 
in  the  symmetry  of  well-proportioned  development. 
When  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  which  marked  the 
century's  close,  he  surprised  his  congregation  by  the 
announcement  that  he  should  follow  the  precedent 
shortly  before  set  bj^  President  Dwight,  and  make  his 
seventieth  year  the  limit  of  his  active  service,  his  last 
sermon  as  their  pastor  was  on  "The  Municipal 
Church,"^  a  program  of  civic  service  for  a  brotherhood 
of  the  followers  of  Christ. 

It  is  fitting  that  the  record  of  Dr.  Hunger's  active 
ministry  should  close  with  his  letter  of  farewell : 

To  THE  United  Church  and  Society  of  New  Haven. 

My  dear  Friends: 

The  time  has  come  when  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  resign  the 
office  to  which  you  called  me  fifteen  years  ago. 

To  those  of  you  who  are  mindful  of  time  and  its  flight 
as  related  to  me,  this  announcement  will  not  be  a  surprise; 
possibly  you  have  been  surprised  that  it  has  not  come  sooner. 

It  has  long  been  my  purpose  to  lay  down  my  office  when 
I  should  reach  the  age  of  seventy,  and  I  had  intended  to  do 
so  last  spring,  but  as  I  reflected  that  no  time  would  be  so 
inopportune   as   the   summer   for  the   church  to   take   such 

9  Preached  April  28,  1901,  and  published  as  a  pamphlet  by  the  church 
at  the  press  of  J.  T.  Hathaway,  New  Haven. 


316  THEODORE  THORNTON  IVIUNGER 

action  as  would  be  necessary  I  decided  to  wait  until  the 
autumn. 

It  is  the  happy  feature  of  the  step  that  I  am  taking,  and 
one  that  makes  it  easy  for  me,  that  I  am  led  up  to  it  simply 
and  solely  by  the  passage  of  time.  No  reason  could  be 
clearer  or  more  divine.  Whatever  mistake  one  may  make 
as  to  entering  the  ministry,  there  can  be  no  mistake  in 
closing  it  at  three  score  and  ten.  I  do  it  with  less  regret 
because,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  there  is  no  reason  growing 
out  of  our  relation  that  you  should  desire  its  close.  If  there 
were  a  lack  of  cordiality  on  either  side,  it  would  be  a  sad 
ending  of  a  life-long  ministry,  but  since  time  alone  is  the 
determining  cause,  the  event  is  redeemed  from  all  personal 
feeling,  and  is  to  be  accepted  as  issuing  from  the  very  will 
of  God. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  state  the  reasons  why  a 
pastor  should  resign  his  office  at  the  age  of  seventy,  but 
some  of  you  who  are  far  off  from  that  age  may  not  under- 
stand why  one  in  ordinary  health  of  mind  and  body  should 
take  this  step.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  by  universal  consent  it 
is  the  age  when  it  is  wiser  in  all  respects  for  men  to  lay 
down  the  responsibihties  that  belong  to  positions  which  are 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  call  for  the  exercise  of  all  their  facul- 
ties while  at  their  highest  point  of  efficiency.  This  period 
ends  at  seventy  with  the  vast  majority.  There  are  excep- 
tions, but  he  who  oversteps  the  mark  incurs  the  risk  of  great 
mistakes,  the  worst  of  which  is  his  own  insensibihty  to  them. 


CHURCH  BUILDING  317 

And  even  if  a  pastor  who  overstays  the  limit  escapes  this 
blind  mistake,  and  is  for  a  time  tolerated  in  it,  he  has  no 
right  to  suffer  himself  to  be  overtaken  bj  conditions  inevit- 
able to  himself  that  unfit  him  for  his  work  and  weaken  his 
ministry.  It  should,  therefore,  be  a  point  of  honor  with  him, 
not  to  drag  his  parish  along  his  descending  path.  The 
parish  is  not  made  for  the  man,  but  the  man  for  the  parish. 
The  vitality  and  efficiency  of  a  church  will  not  rise  above 
the  level  of  these  qualities  in  the  pastor,  and  when  he  falls 
off  in  them  it  is  time  for  him  to  take  himself  out  of  the  way. 
To  cover  an  entire  generation  with  one's  ministry  is  as  much 
as  one  should  attempt;  that  I  have  transgressed  this  limit 
lends  emphasis  to  my  resignation.  If  any  of  you,  out  of 
mistaken  kindness,  should  urge  delay,  I  beg  you  in  truer 
kindness  not  to  involve  me  in  a  steadily  growing  mistake, 
and  so  turn  my  twilight  into  darkness. 

You  already  understand  my  resignation  is  final,  but  I 
do  not  ask  for  immediate  action  on  your  part  unless  you 
should  see  fit  to  make  it  such.  Therefore,  I  will  continue 
to  serve  you  as  pastor  till  January,  when  I  request  you  to 
join  with  me  in  calling  a  council  to  advise  you  as  to  your 
action  upon  this  letter.  If,  however,  it  should  be  more  con- 
venient for  you  to  delay  action  until  a  later  date,  even  to 
the  close  of  the  fiscal  year  in  May,  I  will  endeavor  to  meet 
the  duties  of  my  place  as  in  the  past,  but  with  somewhat 
fuller  dependence  on  my  very  competent  assistant. 

My  dear  friends,  I  send  you  this  letter  with  a  twofold 


818    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

feeling,  the  strongest  of  which  is  an  inevitable  and  profound 
seriousness  in  this  formal  closing  up  of  my  life  as  a  minister 
of  the  gospel  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ,  It  has  been  a  happy 
life,  because  from  first  to  last  I  have  believed  in  this  gospel 
and  in  the  ministry  of  it,  and  never  more  fully  than  today. 
But  while  my  ministerial  life  has  been  happy  because  of  an 
unfailing  enthusiasm  in  it,  and  also  because  of  kindness 
almost  never  disturbed  on  the  part  of  those  to  whom  I  have 
ministered,  I  am  increasingly  burdened  by  a  sense  of  its 
inadequacy  and  defect.  I  end  it  with  no  self-congratulation, 
and  I  have  httle  desire  to  review  it,  except  for  the  love  and 
friendship  the  years  brought  with  them.  Every  man,  I 
think,  must  leave  his  Hfe  with  God  and  hope  it  may  not  have 
been  in  vain.  It  has  at  least  gone  into  the  life  of  the  world 
where  even  mistake  and  defect  may  serve  to  fill  out  tlie 
divine  plan.  To  count  on  more  is  to  go  beyond  sure  desert. 
Hence  I  close  my  ministry  without  real  sadness  over  the  past, 
and  with  an  ever-growing  hope  and  gladness  as  I  look  into 
the  future. 

It  is  probable  that  I  shall  remain  among  you,  and  hence 
I  need  not  anticipate  the  breaking  of  a  single  tie  between 
us,  but  rather  that  the  freedom  into  which  I  shall  come  ^rill 
strengthen  our  friendship  and  make  me  more  fully  than  ever 
before 

Your  friend  and  servant  in  the  love  of  God  and  in  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 

T.    T.    MuNGER. 


CHAPTER  X 

RETIREMENT 
New  Haven,  1901-1910 

When  on  October  7,  1900,  at  the  close  of  a  sermon 
on  missions  by  the  assistant  pastor.  Rev.  Mr.  Deane, 
Munger  read  his  letter  of  resignation  to  the  church, 
it  was  with  full  appreciation  of  the  chorus  of  protest 
that  would  arise.  He  was  but  seventy  and  in  full 
vigor  of  mind  and  body.  Accustomed  in  boyhood  to 
the  tasks  of  the  farm,  he  had  always  kept  up  the  habit 
of  manual  labor  in  New  Haven.  He  took  a  certain 
pride  and  satisfaction  in  tending  his  own  furnace  and 
keeping  house  and  grounds  in  order.  With  the  help 
of  his  son,  Thornton,  he  did  this  until  past  seventy. 

Of  decline  in  mental  vigor  there  was  no  trace 
whatever.  Never  had  he  preached  with  greater  accept- 
ance to  his  own  church  or  been  in  greater  demand  in 
other  pulpits  or  on  the  lecture  platform.  For  years 
he  had  been  a  welcome  preacher  at  Williams  College, 
Harvard,  Yale,  and  Cornell,  and  the  sermon  preached 
at  Cornell  May  23,  1886,  and  published  in  The  Chris- 
tion  Union  of  June  17  on  "The  Renewal  of  Life" 


820    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

might  well  apply  to  his  own  case.  The  decision  to 
retire  at  seventy  illustrated  the  wisdom  of  taking  this 
step  when  everyone  asks,  AVhy  did  he  retire?  rather 
than  after  people  have  begun  to  ask,  Why  doesn't  he 
retire?  Had  he  sought  the  advice  of  the  outside 
world,  the  newspapers,  the  public,  or  of  his  church,  he 
would  certainly  have  been  urged  to  postpone  the  step. 
Pecuniary  considerations  also  bore  heavily  against  it. 
Fifteen  years  at  a  liberal  salary,  as  ministerial  salaries 
go,  an  additional  income  from  lectures,  addresses, 
books,  and  other  literary  work,  and  some  exception- 
ally fortunate  investment  of  savings  had  sufficed  for 
comfortable  maintenance  of  the  home;  still,  without 
the  ministerial  salary  this  would  be  a  slender  depend- 
ence for  old  age.  But  Munger  took  counsel  neither 
with  public  nor  church.  He  did  consult  one  who,  of 
late,  had  come  into  relations  of  close  and  intimate 
friendship,  Dr.  George  A.  Gordon,  whose  pastorate 
over  the  Old  South  Church  in  Boston  had  begun  not 
far  from  the  time  of  Hunger's  in  New  Haven.  Dr. 
Gordon  wrote : 

Your  letter  I  have  read  with  deep  feeling.  I  am  pro- 
foundly moved  by  the  step  which  you  are  about  to  take. 
But  I  will  make  no  protest.  In  the  candor  of  perfect  friend- 
ship, I  think  you  are  wise;  first,  because  your  work  is  at 
the  climax.     Only  this  summer  have  two  of  your  parishoners 


RETIREMENT  321 

told  me  with  what  fond  admiration  you  are  universally 
regarded.  Second,  because  you  will  last  longer  to  your 
family  and  friends. 

You  must  allow  me  to  say  that  we  all  look  to  you  for 
what  your  letter  to  me  reveals  so  impressively,  the  power 
to  take  life  with  religious  serenity.  You  say  fine  and  deep 
things;  you  stand  by  them  in  life  as  its  beatitude,  and  that 
makes  your  books  precious  as  it  does  your  ministry.  Noth- 
ing seems  to  me  so  great  as  this.  "Nothing  became  him  in 
life  like  the  leaving  of  it."  For  this  equalization  of  spirit 
with  exigency  I  thank  you,  my  dear  friend,  from  the  bottom 
of  ray  heart.  It  is  the  exaraple  which  I  most  prize;  and  I 
thank  God  He  is  with  you.    .    .    . 

Ever  with  respect  and  tender  affection, 

Your  friend, 

George  A.  Gordon. 

Of  course  there  were  many  to  remind  the  retiring 
minister  that  now  he  would  be  able  to  give  himself 
with  a  free  hand  to  literature.  Bishop  E.  S.  Lines 
wrote : 

You  will  take  a  larger  parish  when  you  cease  to  be  the 
minister  of  the  United  Church.  For  now  you  will  have  us 
all  as  parishioners. 

The  editor  of  The  Atlantic  Monthly  wrote  with 
much  more  than  the  mere  business  interest : 


322     THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Boston,  October  11,  1900. 
My  dear  Dr.  Muxger: 

I  have  been  reading  your  letter  of  resignation,  and  feeling 
much  as  if  I  were  one  of  your  congregation.  Ever  since  my 
marriage  I  have  had  frequent  opportunities  of  hearing  you 
preach,  and  indeed  it  happened  for  several  years  that  I 
attended  your  opening  ser\-ice  in  the  autumn.  Each  sermon 
has  brought  back  memories  of  your  preaching  in  the  college 
chapel  at  Williams  when  I  was  an  undergraduate,  and  you 
must  forgive  me  for  saying  ahnost  to  your  face  that  no 
preaching  I  have  ever  heard  has  been  so  helpful  to  me  as 
yours.  I  have  read  your  printed  sermons  over  and  over 
until  the  volumes  are  quite  shabby,  and  when  you  stop  writ- 
ing more  I  shall  feel  as  if  another  chapter  in  my  life  were 
closed.     But  of  course  you  will  not  ever  quite  stop,  I  hope! 

And  now  that  you  are  looking  forward  to  some  leisure, 
perhaps  that  essay  upon  Hawthorne  will  get  written,  and 
I  shall  have  it  for  The  Atlantic!  I  subscribed  to  The  Andcver 
Reviexc  for  two  or  three  years  in  the  hope  of  getting 
that  article,  but  I  mil  forgive  you  for  the  tempwrary 
disappointment  if  you  will  write  it  yet !  .    .    . 

Cordially, 

Buss  Perry. 

There  was  thus  to  be  for  the  present,  at  least,  no 
slackening  of  the  demand  for  literary  work.  Neither 
did  the  churches  mean  that  he  should  withdraw  from 
his  accustomed  counsel  and  aid  in  their  common  inter- 


RETIREMENT  323 

ests.  Colleagues  of  all  denominations  in  the  Xew 
Haven  ministry  wrote  in  similar  terms  of  affectionate 
esteem.  But  deepest  in  meaning  were  the  many- 
letters  of  grateful  appreciation  for  indi^^dual  help 
from  old  and  young,  far  and  near.  Especially  dear 
to  the  retiring  pastor  were  the  tributes  which  poured 
in  from  his  own  people,  from  which  we  can  take  but 
a  single  example.  It  was  from  one  of  the  officers  of 
the  church,  a  loj^al  and  unwearying  helper  in  every 
good  word  and  work : 

New  Haven,  Ct.,  October  8,  1900. 
My  dear  Dr.  Muxger: 

May  I  have  a  word  to  you  with  all  the  others.? 

It  is,  that  your  pulpit  teachings  for  the  past  seven  years 
have  been  the  most  valuable  body  of  instruction  I  have  ever 
received,  from  tongue  or  pen,  outside  the  Bible. 

I  do  not  in  the  least  think  of  your  teaching  as  ending,  or 
about  to  end,  for  while  you  are  with  us,  your  presence  and 
voice  will  be  a  constant  repetition  and  re-enforcement  of  it. 

Grateful  for  the  steadying,  inspiring  influence  of  your 
words  and  life,  I  am,  with  respect  and  affection. 

Your  friend, 

A.   B.   ]MlLLER. 

Relations  with  his  larger  unofficial  parish  did  not 
cease.  His  sense  of  the  greater  rewards  of  the  min- 
istry may  be  inferred  from  a  few  paragraphs  taken 


324    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

from  a  letter  written  in  1902  to  the  son  of  his  old 
friend  Taft,  now  in  the  early  years  of  his  ministrj-  in 
an  Episcopal  parish.  The  young  man  had  applied  for 
counsel  in  some  discouragement.  ^Munger's  realiza- 
tion of  the  value  of  a  continuous  maintenance  of 
public  worship  appears  in  the  first  of  these  excerpts : 

Perhaps  I  should  say  to  myself:  "I  have  sowed  the  seed; 
what  have  I  to  do  with  the  gro\nng?  That  belongs  to  God 
and  soil  and  weather."  But  we  can  go  further,  and  it  would 
be  in  an  Episcopalian  direction  especially ;  namely,  an  honest 
and  earnest  maintenance  of  the  institutions  of  reUgion — 
especially  unceasing  worship — is  one  of  the  best  things  to 
do  for  a  communit3\  Of  course,  the  more  earnestness  and 
intelligence  one  can  put  into  the  observance,  the  better  will 
the  effect  be.  But,  now  that  I  am  pastor  emeritus  I  can 
easily  imagine  that  if  I  had  for  my  pastor  a  good  man, 
sincere,  humble,  and  every  way  decent,  I  should  come  not 
only  to  love  him  but  to  feel  the  influence  of  his  life.  Now, 
here  is  one  of  the  strong  arguments  for  the  ministry,  and 
one  of  the  best  justifications  of  it — the  quiet,  steady  influ- 
ence of  a  faithful  parish  priest  (using  your  word).  But  all 
this  you  already  know.  Perhaps  you  do  not  know  that  if 
you  were  to  resign,  you  would  find  many  coming  to  you — 
some  with  tears — and  men  at  that — who  would  tell  you  that 
you  had  been  of  greatest  service  to  them ;  made  them  see 
the  Bible  and  life  in  a  new  light,  and  that  the}'  were  at  a 
loss  what  to  do  in  the  future  without  your  constant  help. 


RETIREMENT  325 

I  go  deeper  still.  I  believe  that  if  a  man  has  put  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  and  has  God  in  his  soul,  he  has  a  right  to  know 
that  that  inward  life  is  going  out  of  him  into  others. 
Christ's  did ;  why  not  ours  ?  One  must  have  faith  in  his  own 
faith  and  treat  it  as  a  power. 

I  close  by  saying  that  a  minister  must  fall  back  on  the 
very  power  and  graces  that  are  in  him  if  he  is  an  honest  and 
true  man.  None  of  us  know  much  about  our  success.  It 
may  be  great  or  small,  but  one  thing  we  do  know  is  that 
no  true  life  is  lost  upon  our  fellow  men.   .    .    . 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

T.  T.  Hunger. 

Munger's  resignation  was  approved  by  council  of 
churches  November  30,  fifteen  years  from  the  date  of 
his  installation.  Upon  request  of  the  church,  how- 
ever, it  was  not  to  take  effect  until  May,  1901.  On 
December  11  the  church  appointed  him  pastor  emeri- 
tus at  a  salary  of  $1,000,  and  asked  him  to  serve  on 
the  committee  appointed  to  select  his  successor. 
Nothing  in  the  history  of  the  church  gave  him  more 
satisfaction  than  the  installation  of  his  successor. 
Rev.  Artemas  J.  Haynes,  who  took  up  the  work  in 
September,  1901,  was  a  man  after  Dr.  Munger's  own 
heart.  Throughout  his  brief  ministry  the  pastor 
emeritus   gave   gladly   and   sympathetically   of   his 


326    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

experience,  encouragement,  and  aid.  It  was  one  of 
the  great  sorrows  of  Dr.  jSIunger's  latest  years  when 
this  noble  ministrj^  so  auspiciously  begun  was  brought 
to  a  sudden  close  in  June,  1908,  by  the  accidental 
drowning  of  Mr.  Haynes. 

The  home  life  in  these  later  years  had  been  bright- 
ened by  new  accessions.  The  second  daughter,  in 
1893  was  married  to  Mr.  Philip  P.  Wells,  whose  work 
in  connection  with  the  university  enabled  the  young 
couple  to  make  their  home  for  a  time  in  New  Haven. 
The  year  1901,  which  witnessed  the  festivities  of  the 
university's  bicentennial  anniversary,  was  that  of 
another  wedding  in  the  INIunger  home.  The  third 
daughter,  Elizabeth,  became  the  wife  of  John  Chester 
Adams,  and  again  there  was  special  rejoicing  in  the 
family,  because  Mr.  Adams's  position  as  an  instructor 
in  the  universitj^  would  insure  that  the  new  home 
would  also  be  in  New  Haven. 

The  spring  of  this  same  year  had  brought  back  the 
surviving  members  of  Munger's  college  class  (Yale 
'51)  for  their  fiftieth  reunion.  The  fall  brought  even 
larger  gatherings  to  the  bicentennial  celebration. 
With  added  endowments,  splendid  buildings,  and 
equipment,  and  a  great  host  of  honored  and  loyal 
sons,  the  university  began  the  third  century  of 
its  service  in  the  training  of  men  "for  service  in  church 


RETIREMENT  327 

and  civil  state."  It  had  been  a  year  of  visits  and 
renewed  acquaintance  with  old  friends,  including  Taft 
and  Andrew  White.  However,  Munger  was  to  retain 
his  official  connection  with  the  university  but  a  few 
years  more.  His  resignation  from  the  corporation 
was  presented  in  1905,  but  his  interest,  especially  in 
matters  concerning  the  Divinity  School,  remained 
undiminished,  calling  forth  an  address  on  "Organiza- 
tion a  Factor  in  the  Ministry"  at  the  ordination  of 
Rev.  F.  K.  Sanders  as  dean  of  the  Department  in 
1904.' 

There  were  other  congenial  tasks  for  the  ex-pastor's 
gifts  in  these  first  years  of  retirement.  In  December, 
1900,  a  banquet  was  given  in  Boston  in  honor  of 
Elisha  Mulford.  Munger  would  gladly  have  been 
present,  for  this  classic  method  of  honoring  a  revered 
memory,  unusual  as  it  is  to  moderns,  appealed  to  him 
as  having  special  appropriateness  to  the  genial,  com- 
panionable spirit  of  Mulford.  Though  unable  to 
attend,  Munger  prepared  the  chief  tribute  of  the  occa- 
sion, a  sketch  of  Mulford's  character  and  life,  which 
was  read  by  one  of  the  friends  in  attendance. 

Of  the  historical  address  at  the  centennial  of  the 
church  in  Homer,  given  by  Munger  in  this  same  busy 
year    of    the    Yale    bicentennial,    we    have    already 

1  Published  in  the  Yale  Divinity  Quarterly  for  1904. 


328    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

spoken."  The  year  1902  saw  a  similar  service  per- 
formed for  the  well-beloved  parish  in  North  Adams. 
At  its  seventy-fifth  anniversary  in  May,  Gladden, 
Pratt,  and  Hunger  sat  together  at  the  services.  There 
was  no  self-glorification  in  Hunger's  review  of  his 
own  pastorate  which  constituted  the  Sunday  morning 
sermon,  but  those  who  listened  might  well  realize  as 
they  looked  at  the  three  silvered  heads  before  them 
that  in  Gladden,  Pratt,  and  Hunger  their  church  had 
profited  by  a  rare  "apostolic  succession."  Its  mani- 
festation was  not  in  the  symbolism  of  vestments  or 
ritual  forms,  but  in  practical  service,  building  their 
lives  into  the  permanent  structure  of  the  chin-ch. 
Three  years  later  we  find  the  reminiscence  of  Homer 
calling  out  an  article  in  The  Congregationalist  called 
"Early  Candlelight."^  Between  its  lines  one  may 
read  the  softened  memories  of  old  age,  lingering  in 
poetic  sj^mbolism  over  a  scene  recalled  from  childhood. 
Hunger's  service  to  his  parishioners  at  large  in  this 
period  of  retirement  included  many  appreciations  of 
men  of  mark.  Such  was  the  article  "A  Significant 
Biography"  in  The  Atlantic  for  1905,  discussing  the 
"Autobiography  of  Andrew  D.  AVTiite,"  and  in  the 
following  year  articles  on  "Henry  Drummond"  in 

2  See  above,  p.  17,  note. 
8  Quoted  above,  p.  20. 


RETIREMENT  329 

The  Homiletic  Review  and  "An  Old-Time  Hero" 
(Rev.  John  Keep  of  Oberlin)  in  The  Congregation- 
alist.  In  1907  there  were  appreciations  of  "Robert 
Burns"  in  Appleton's  Magazine^  of  "Longfellow  the 
Poet  of  the  People"  in  The  Congregationalist,  of 
"Shakespeare  of  Warwickshire"  in  The  Atlantic;  in 
1908  of  "Dr.  Nathaniel  Taylor"  in  The  Congrega- 
tionalist.  It  included  also  keen  analyses  of  conditions 
in  the  field  of  education  and  religion.  His  interest  in 
education  was  shown  in  the  article  in  The  Outlook  for 
1902  on  "The  Divinity  School  and  the  University," 
of  which  we  have  spoken.  In  1904  it  led  to  the 
address  "Organization  a  Factor  in  the  Ministry." 
The  religious  discussions  of  the  times  are  reflected  in 
the  article  "Where  We  Are,"  in  The  Congregational- 
ist  for  1902.  It  is  a  defense  of  the  higher  criticism, 
accepting  its  assured  results,  commending  its  evolu- 
tionary view  of  revelation,  and  reassuring  timid  souls 
with  liis  own  high-souled  confidence  in  "the  leadership 
of  the  Spirit  of  Truth." 

Munger's  last  volume  was  published  in  1904  under 
the  title  "Essays  for  the  Day."  In  this  were  gathered 
the  chief  fruits  of  his  latter  days,  not  sermons  but 
essays,  all  but  one  of  which  had  recently  appeared  in 
The  Outlook,  The  Century,  and  The  Atlantic.  It 
was  no  random  selection,  but  well  illustrates  the  lead- 


330    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

ing  ideas  of  the  author's  life;  for  the  six  essays:  "The 
Church:  Some  Immediate  Questions";  "The  Inter- 
play of  Christianity  and  Literature";  "Xotes  on  The 
Scarlet  Letter";  "The  Secret  of  Horace  Bushnell"; 
"A  Layman's  Reflections  on  Music";  and  "A  Cock  to 
i^sculapius,"  are  concerned  with  what  was  deepest 
and  most  vital  in  Hunger's  thought.  The  last  is, 
indeed,  but  a  brief  meditation  inspired  by  the  parting 
message  of  Socrates,  and  reflects  the  favorite  theme 
of  immortality.  The  preceding  essaj^  also  stands 
somewhat  apart.  It  deals  with  the  art  of  music  in  a 
way  to  remind  us  of  Bushnell's  discourse  on  "Reli- 
gious Music"  in  "Work  and  Play,"  even  without  the 
author's  reference  to  "hearing  it  in  the  dimly  lighted 
and  dingy  old  chapel  of  Yale  College."  But  the  four 
which  precede  are  condensed  restatements  of  the 
great  ideas  of  Munger's  ministry,  linked  together  by 
that  on  "Christianity  and  Literature,"  which  forms 
an  unconscious  summing  up  of  the  meaning  of  his 
own  life. 

The  essay  on  "The  Church,"  reprinted  from  The 
Atlantic  for  1903,  sets  over  against  one  another  the 
disappointing  reality  and  the  sublime  ideal.  The 
multiplicity  of  sects  and  forms  was  to  Munger  an 
evil  indeed,  but  an  unavoidable  and  temporary  one. 
The  schism   of  the   New  England   Congregational 


RETIREMENT  331 

churches  into  Trinitarian  and  Unitarian  was  to  him 
one  of  the  most  needless.  Return  to  the  old  Congre- 
gational protest  against  creed  subscription  was 
destined  to  heal  it.  But  this  would  be  but  one  factor 
in  the  synthesis  to  come.  The  Church  as  a  whole  must 
ultimatelj^  become  the  expression  of  the  religious  life 
of  the  nation,  though  Puritan  democracy  and  indi- 
vidualism must  first  try  themselves  out  in  variety  of 
form. 

The  multipKcity  of  churches  reveals  several  things  of 
great  importance — first,  man's  ineradicable  instinct  for 
religion.  The  choice  was  open,  as  it  never  before  had  been, 
and  he  chose  religion  as  liis  supreme  portion ;  second,  it 
secured  an  almost  universal  spread  of  religion,  for  so  it 
works  when  it  is  free;  third,  it  reveals  an  unconscious 
tendency  on  the  part  of  the  churches  to  coordinate  them- 
selves with  the  nation — a  process  that  will  come  out  more 
and  more  as  time  goes  on. 

The  division  into  liturgical  and  non-liturgical  is  a 
necessary  accommodation  to  freedom,  but  need  not 
cause  disunion.    Catholicity  can  meet  both  needs. 

The  Presbyterian  church  has  a  full  and  rich  liturgical 
ser^ace,  but  it  is  unused.  The  Episcopal  church  provides 
one  for  those  who  wish  so  to  worship.  By  virtue  of  its 
liturgy  and  its  doctrine  pertaining  to  children  it  is  winning 


8S2    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

a  large  place  among  the  churches,  and  would  win  a  larger 
were  it  not  that — unnecessarily  one  would  think — it  is  tied 
up  by  certain  ecclesiastical  notions  and  rubrics  that  Anolate 
democratic  ideas,  and  run  athwart  the  course  if  Church  and 
Nation  are  to  move  on  together.  Were  these  restraints 
removed,  it  would  open  a  path  that  many  would  delight  to 
walk  in;  but  the  paths  in  which  Americans  prefer  to  walk 
are  those  in  which  two  can  walk  abreast  within  as  well  as 
without  chancel  bars.  The  nation  forbids  nothing  in  ritual 
or  belief,  and  welcomes  variet}^  so  long  as  there  is  unity  of 
the  spirit,  but  it  requires  that  all  churches  shall  think  in 
accord  with  its  spirit  and  its  institutions.  This  is  inevitable. 
The  nation  cannot  say  one  thing  and  the  churches  another. 
The  dominant  spirit  of  the  greater  will  silently  find  its  way 
to  the  whole  and  a  free  nation  will  create  a  free  church  by 
however  many  names  it  may  be  called.  We  do  not  say  that 
the  nation  creates  its  religion,  but  only  that  it  shapes  and 
subdues  it  to  its  own  complexion. 

As  the  Puritan  fathers  made  education  the  safe- 
guard of  their  theocratic  democracy,  planting  the 
schoolhouse  by  the  church  and  building  colleges  to 
guard  against  the  perils  of  an  unlearned  ministry,  so 
Hunger  looks  to  the  university  as  the  chief  ally  of  the 
Church. 

The  increasing  necessity  of  the  Church  is  enlightenment, 
and  for  this  we  must  look  to  the  University.     Nothing  of 


RETIREMENT  333 

value  is  being  said  today  on  theology  or  ecclesiastical  usage 
or  practical  ethics  that  does  not  proceed  from  it  or  bear  its 
stamp.  But  the  University  must  be  of  the  true  Comenius 
type — ^based  on  nature  and  crowned  with  faith  in  God, 
balancing  all.  attainable  knowledge,  and  thus  able  to  teach 
harmonious  truths  and  true  living.* 

In  his  latest  days,  as  in  his  earliest,  Munger  was 
conscious  of  Christianity's  vital  need  of  a  Church  con- 
tinuous in  its  propagation  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion of  the  true  Christ-spirit,  catholic  in  its  compre- 
hensive variety  in  unit5^  But  he  had  learned  to  look 
foward  rather  than  about  him,  and  saw  deeper  than  in 
the  early  days  of  his  ministry  into  the  real  obstacles 
and  difficulties.  Increasingly  he  felt  the  significance 
of  Bushnell's  work  as  a  leader  of  New  England's  theo- 
logical thought.  Bushnell,  a  seer  and  preacher  rather 
than  systematic  theologian,  brought  the  "improved" 
Calvinism  of  the  followers  of  Edwards  to  the  test  of 
life  and  reality.  Through  his  influence,  direct  and 
indirect,  New  England  theology  was  forced  out  from 
an  academic  logomachy  into  the  realm  of  fact,  and 
the  present-day  witness  of  the  Spirit.  "The  Secret 
of  Horace  Bushnell"  as  Munger  saw  it  was  that  "as 
Harnack  said  of  Luther:  'He  liberated  the  natural 
life  and  the  natural  order  of  things.'  " 

4  "Essays  for  the  Day,"  pp.  41-47. 


334    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

From  every  quarter — Princeton,  New  Haven,  East  Wind- 
sor (Hartford),  Boston,  and  Bangor — came  the  charge  of 
naturalism,  a  true  charge  and  fatal  if  Bushnell  meant  by 
nature  what  his  critics  meant.  .  .  .  If  we  were  to  take  up 
Bushnell's  treatises  in  order,  we  should  find  what  we  have 
called  his  secret  underlying  each  one,  and  the  soul  of  it; 
each  is  an  appeal  to  nature  in  its  great  sense.  ...  In 
"Nature  and  the  Supernatural"  his  central  thought  had  full 
play;  not  nature  in  its  usual  restricted  sense — as  with  the 
naturalist  who  stays  within  its  form  and  process — but  nature 
as  comprising  these  and  going  beyond  into  universal  being, 
even  God  who  is  included  in  its  category.  ,  .  .  "Nature  and 
the  supernatural  form  the  one  system  of  God."  .  .  .  Bush- 
nell, outrunning  his  day,  conceived  of  God  as  immanent  in 
his  works — the  soul  and  life  of  them.  Their  laws  are  his 
laws.  Therefore,  if  one  would  know  how  God  feels  and  thinks 
and  acts,  one  must  go  to  nature,  and  to  humanity  as  its 
culmination.  God  is  the  spiritual  reality  of  which  nature 
is  a  manifestation.^ 

The  message  which  Hunger  designated  "The 
Secret  of  Bushnell"  in  the  field  of  life  and  nature,  he 
felt  to  be  his  own  in  the  field  of  literature.  Literature 
is  the  art  of  the  portrayal  of  life.  It  mirrors  the 
progress  of  the  soul  in  its  warfare  against  outward 
circumstance.     Biblical  literature  occupies  its  pre- 

5  "Essays  for  the  Day,"  pp.  157-175. 


RETIREMENT  335 

eminent  place  for  the  student  of  religion  because  it 
reflects  religious  life,  both  national  and  personal,  in 
Israel,  a  truly  chosen  people  so  far  as  this  ineradicable 
instinct  of  humanity  is  concerned.  Hunger,  though 
better  read  than  most  of  his  colleagues  in  the  ministry 
in  the  rapidly  advancing  science  of  biblical  criticism 
and  interpretation,  was  no  specialist  in  this  field.  He 
was,  however,  by  natural  propensity  and  by  hfelong 
discipline,  a  student  and  lover  of  literature.  He 
appreciated  its  artistic  beauty,  but  denied  peremp- 
torily any  application  to  it  of  the  oft-repeated  maxim, 
"art  for  art's  sake."  In  his  view  literature,  as  the 
interpreter  of  the  soul,  can  have  no  higher  ideal  than 
to  be  the  servant  of  religion,  never  more  truly  its 
servant  than  when  in  revolt  against  a  dogmatic  theol- 
ogy. Since  the  advent  of  Christianity  it  has  taken  its 
preordained  place  as  the  exponent  of  life  lived  in 
harmonj^  with  Christian  ideals. 

Christianity  has  infused  itself  into  literature,  and  used  it 
for  itself,  making  it  a  medium  by  which  it  conveys  itself  to 
the  world. 

This  is  the  theme  of  the  essay  "Christianity  and 
Literature"  which  makes  a  unit  of  "Essays  for  the 
Day."  It  follows  the  stream  of  literature  from  the 
Xew  Testament  down,  justly  declaring  that 


336    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

the  great  masterpieces  do  not  spring  primarily  from  the 
literary  sense  or  purpose,  but  from  human  depths  of  feeUng 
and  duty. 

In  Dante,  "the  spokesman  of  ten  silent  centuries," 
is  found  "the  first  if  not  the  greatest  name  in  Christian 
literature." 

In  the  Greek  tragedies  mistake  is  equivalent  to  sin  or 
crime,  and  led  to  the  same  doom,  but  the  Inferno,  with  a 
few  exceptions  made  in  the  interest  of  the  Church,  contains 
only  sinners.  In  the  tragedies  defeat  is  final  even  though 
struggle  must  never  end ;  there  is  no  freedom,  no  repentance 
and  undoing;  but  Dante  builds  his  poem  on  the  living  free 
will,  the  struggling  and  overcoming  soul.* 

Dante  serves  as  the  first  great  Christian  example 
how 

sin  and  its  reaction,  pain  eating  away  the  sin,  purity  and 
wisdom  through  the  suffering  of  sin,  sin  and  its  disclosure 
through  conscience — what  else  do  we  find  in  the  great 
masterpieces  of  fiction  and  poetry,  not  indeed  ^^'ith  sla\'ish 
uniformity,  but  as  a  dominant  thought.?  .  .  .  The  root  idea 
of  this  conception  of  sin  is  humanity,  the  chief  theme  of 
modem  literature  as  it  is  of  Christianity ;  and  it  is  the  one 
because  it  is  the  other.  This  conception  pervades  literature 
because  Christianity  imparted  it.  .  .  . 
8  "Essays  for  the  Day,"  p.  68. 


RETIREMENT  337 

For  the  most  part  the  Hterature  of  the  Occident  is  Chris- 
tian; I  mean  the  great  literature.  .  .  .  Some  great  names 
cannot  be  included.  As  paganism  lives  on  in  the  State,  so 
it  survives  in  hterature,  but  in  each  with  waning  force.  .  .  . 
The  novel  of  society  and  of  naked  reahsm,  and  the  art-for- 
art's-sake  literature  which  lingering  heathenism  now  and 
then  strives  to  revive,  have  no  deep  and  lasting  regard;  but 
every  author  who  seems  to  win  a  place  and  to  keep  it  reflects 
how  thoroughly  Christianity  and  Literature  interpenetrate 
each  other.  ...  A  Christian  nation  will  accept  and  adopt 
as  classic  only  the  literature  which  is  Christian.  This  is 
simply  logical;  it  must  embody  those  truths  and  facts  which 
it  has  adopted  as  the  grounds  of  its  life  and  conduct.  Its 
literature  must  represent  what  it  beheves  in,  what  it  cares 
for,  and  it  must  enshrine  the  hopes  which  inspire  its  daily 
life,  and,  above  all,  its  Hterature  must  feed  the  ideals  which 
it  has  caught  from  its  Faith.^ 

The  essay  entitled  "Notes  on  the  Scarlet  Letter" 
shows  how  this  principle  was  worked  out  on  the  soil  of 
New  England.  Hawthorne  is  revealed  as  the 
counterpart  in  literature  of  the  New  England  theo- 
logian. He,  too,  studies  the  redemption  of  the  soul; 
not  with  the  explicit  protest  of  Bushnell  against  the 
unreality  of  theologic  phrase,  but  with  a  tacit  rebuke 
in  the  realistic  idealism  of  his  art. 

^  Pp.  74-90. 


338    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

He  has  but  one  deep  and  permanent  interest :  the  play 
of  conscience  under  sin.  He  is  a  student  of  the  soul.  He 
watches  its  play  as  a  biologist  watches  an  animal  under  vary- 
ing conditions ;  but  in  each  case  it  is  the  study  of  a  soul — 
not  degraded,  but  only  wounded,  as  it  were,  and  while  it  is 
keen  to  feel,  and  while  the  good  and  evil  in  it  are  full  of 
primal  energy.  .  .  .  Hawthorne  knew  evil  under  its  laws. 
Neither  sentiment,  nor  art,  nor  dogma  deflected  him  from 
seeing  the  thing  as  it  is,  and  setting  it  down  with  relentless 
accuracy.  His  claim  to  genius  would  be  impeached  if  it 
were  not  accurate;  and  the  reason  why  it  stands  clear  and 
unquestioned  is  because  no  taint  of  morbidness,  nor  Puritan 
inheritance  lessens  the  absolute  veracity  of  his  estimates. 
Each  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  the  selection  of  his 
subjects,  but  nothing  whatever  with  his  own  ethical  opinions. 
His  hterary  art  and  execution,  faultless  though  they  are, 
would  not  alone  secure  for  him  the  admiration  and  rever- 
ence of  all  lovers  of  good  hterature.  For,  at  last,  it  is  truth 
alone  for  which  men  care ;  and  truth  only  is  strong  enough 
to  win  unquestioned  and  universal  verdicts.^ 

"Essays  for  the  Day"  was  the  final  offering  of  our 
New  England  minister  to  the  world  of  letters.  The 
few  remaining  years  before  the  end  saw  little  from  his 
pen  save  the  articles  already  mentioned.  They  were 
years  of  declining  strength,  but  enriched  by  tokens  of 

8  Pp.  142-144. 


RETIREMENT  339 

appreciation   and  brightened  bj^  genial  intercourse 
with  friends. 

Of  pubhc  honors  we  should  mention  first  the  degree 
of  Doctor  of  Sacred  Theology  conferred  by  Harvard 
in  1904.  President  Eliot's  characterization  has  the 
conciseness  of  the  lapidary : 

Theodore  Thornton  Hunger,  preacher  and  author, 
prophet  of  liberty  and  unity,  who  long  ago  saw  what  kind  of 
seed  the  nineteenth  century  was  sowing  in  literature,  philoso- 
phy, and  rehgion,  and  foresaw  the  precious  harvest  of  the 
twentieth. 

We  take,  however,  from  the  comment  of  the  Boston 
Transcript  a  fuller  statement  of  the  grounds  on  which 
the  university  deemed  the  honor  a  fitting  one : 

Harvard's  conferral  of  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Sacred 
Theology  on  Rev.  Dr.  Hunger  of  New  Haven  will  seem  an 
entirely  proper  honor  to  the  lovers  of  good  literature  and 
noble  religious  thinking,  who  have  found  in  him  the  literary 
artist  and  the  prophet  combined.  When  the  man  of  the 
next  generation,  with  a  truer  perspective  than  now  is  possi- 
ble, comes  to  study  the  history  of  the  Hberalizing  movement 
within  the  Orthodox  Congregational  fold  during  the  last 
third  of  the  nineteenth  century,  he  wiU  give  Dr.  Hunger  a 
very  high  place,  not  only  for  quick  insight  into  the  imph ca- 
tions of  the  vast  body  of  new  knowledge  which  science  has 


340    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

brought  to  thoughtful  men,  but  also  for  prompt  courage  in 
declaring  what  the  new  truth  was,  and  what  it  meant,  and 
because  of  his  singularly  felicitous  ways  of  expressing  his 
thoughts.  Dr.  Lyman  Abbott  as  a  working  journalist 
probably  has  done  more  as  a  popularizer  of  the  thought  of 
other  men  than  Dr.  Munger  has.  Dr.  Gladden  and  Presi- 
dent Tucker  have  been  more  prominently  identified  with 
promulgating  the  new  truth  as  it  affects  social  reconstruc- 
tion. Dr.  Gordon  has  been  more  conspicuous  as  a  philo- 
sophical and  theological  innovator  and  teacher.  Dr.  Munger 
has  seen  what  they  have  seen,  taught  what  they  have  taught 
by  word  of  mouth  and  by  printed  page — though  to  a  smaller 
circle;  but  he  has  stamped  the  body  of  writing  he  has  put 
forth  with  a  finish  of  style,  a  mellowness  of  judgment,  a 
correlation  of  philosophy  and  religion,  individualism  and 
sociality,  spirit  and  form,  art  and  life,  which  bid  fair  to 
make  him  an  enduring  figure  in  the  history  of  New  England 
theology  and  literature.  His  long  residence  in  New  Haven 
and  his  official  relations  to  Yale  University  make  the  more 
conspicuous  the  honor  done  him  by  Harvard. 

The  following  year  (1905)  saw  further  public 
honor  in  Hunger's  election  to  membership  in  the 
American  Institute  of  Arts  and  Letters.  It  was  an 
honor  justly  prized,  but  came  less  close  to  the  heart  of 
its  recipient  than  one  which  on  the  sixth  of  the  ensuing 
February  was   tendered   him   by   his   New   Haven 


RETIREMENT  341 

church.  On  that  evening  the  United  Church  gathered 
in  its  parish  house  to  pay  him  affectionate  tribute  on 
the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  his  ordination.  Some  from 
the  number  of  his  old  college  class  were  there,  though 
Taft,  who  would  have  so  gladly  greeted  him,  had  died 
more  than  two  years  before.  Some  were  there  from 
his  first  parish  in  Dorchester  and  a  multitude,  old  and 
young,  who  had  been  under  his  more  recent  care.  Led 
by  his  well-beloved  successor  in  the  pastorate,  the 
church,  united  in  fact  as  in  name,  came  forward  to 
do  him  honor,  their  spokesman  presenting  a  gift  of 
$1,000  "to  add  to  his  comfort  in  some  way." 

More  than  once  we  have  had  occasion  to  quote  from 
the  retrospect  given  by  the  aged  pastor  on  this  occa- 
sion over  his  fifty  years  of  service.  We  have  but  one 
quotation  to  add,  not  of  retrospect  but  of  prospect; 
for  the  closing  words  of  the  address  looked  forward 
and  not  back : 

As  the  bird  trims  her  to  the  gale 
I  trim  myself  to  the  storm  of  time 
I  man  the  rudder,  reef  the  sail. 
Obey  the  voice  at  eve  obeyed  at  prime : 
"Lowly  faithful,  banish  fear, 
Right  onward  drive  unharmed; 
The  port,  well  worth  the  cruise,  is  near, 
And  every  wave  is  charmed." 


342    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

To  be  crowned  with  well-earned  laurels,  to  receive 
tributes  of  affection  and  gratitude  from  those  who 
count  themselves  debtors,  is  the  highest  privilege  of 
old  age,  a  goal  all  aspire  to,  and  few  attain.  Yet  when 
attained,  as  in  Munger's  case,  it  has  its  sadder  aspect. 
Public  honors  for  the  aged  are  leave-takings  of  public 
life,  and  the  lines  with  which  Munger  closed  the  retro- 
spect of  his  ministry  show  how  clearly  he  realized  this. 
His  resignation  from  the  pastorate  marked  the  be- 
ginning of  this  withdrawal.  Resignation  from  the 
Yale  Corporation  in  1905  marked  a  further  stage. 
"Essays  for  the  Day"  was  the  preacher's  peroration. 
A  few  more  articles  were  written,  vigorous  and 
trenchant  in  thought  and  polished  as  ever  in  style. 
But  his  work  of  life  was  done.  Step  by  step  the  pas- 
tor, preacher,  counsellor,  critic,  and  essayist  had  with- 
drawn from  the  public,  narrowing  little  by  little  the 
horizon  of  his  dailj^  affairs.  Is  there  any  art  by  which 
withdrawal  can  be  made  graceful?  Is  there  any 
wisdom  by  which  the  spirit  can  adjust  itself  gently 
and  quietly  to  the  increasing  infirmities  and  limita- 
tions of  old  age?  If  so,  Munger  showed  both.  Gor- 
don had  justly  said  of  his  resignation  that  nothing  in 
his  public  career  so  became  him  as  his  withdrawal 
from  it.  It  was  done  with  the  modest  courtesy  which 
had  marked  his  entire  life.     And  when  the  public 


RETIREMENT  343 

plaudits  were  over,  in  the  retirement  of  the  home 
there  was  no  repining,  no  melancholy,  for  the  horizon 
was  still  wide  and  full  of  the  warm  tints  of  sunset 
glow. 

Even  the  years  which  followed  the  commemoration 
of  Plunger's  ordination  were  far  from  inactive  in  the 
service  of  the  parish,  and  particularly  in  the  cause  of 
missions.  Many  were  the  calls  made  on  those  in 
trouble  and  bereavement,  always  in  company  with 
Mrs.  Munger,  who  from  the  time  of  her  marriage  had 
shared  every  work,  every  visit,  every  service  with  her 
husband.  His  correspondence  still  continued  wide. 
Many  were  the  visits  made  to  solicit  gifts  for  the 
building  of  a  church  in  Ahmednagar,  India.  For  this 
missionary  enterprise  under  the  care  of  Robert  Hume, 
he  raised  by  his  personal  efforts  a  fund  of  $2,000. 

In  1906  we  find  him  securing  gifts  amounting  to 
$500  for  a  library  to  be  placed  in  the  Doshisha  Col- 
lege in  Japan.  The  books  were  intended  for  the  use 
of  Japanese  pastors  who  had  learned  the  use  of  Eng- 
lish. Other  undertakings  of  like  character  follow. 
The  house  on  Prospect  Street  remains  as  ever  a  resort 
on  the  one  side  for  students,  especially  from  the  Divin- 
ity School,  on  the  other  for  men  of  distinction  visit- 
ing the  university  or  preaching  in  the  churches  of  the 
city.     There  is  generous  advice  and  encouragement 


344    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

for  the  one,  high  and  profitable  discourse  with  the 
other.  And  ever  in  the  inner  circle  went  on  uninter- 
ruptedly the  process  of  home-building,  the  structure 
of  the  house  not  built  with  hands.  The  old  New 
England  customs  of  domestic  worship,  the  family 
tradition  of  evenings  spent  in  reading  aloud  from  the 
best  literature,  were  maintained,  not  perfunctorily, 
not  as  an  obligation,  but  as  an  expression  of  the  loving 
fellowship  that  seeks  means  of  communion  and 
sympathy. 

For  the  brother  in  Montrose  and  the  remaining 
group  of  kindred  there  were  letters,  gifts,  and  occa- 
sional visits,  as  well  as  for  the  wider  circle  of  friends, 
such  as  White,  Noble,  and  Gordon.  Home  and 
friends  filled  in  ever  larger  degree  the  outline  of  life. 
JNIrs.  Hunger's  sedulous  care  watched  over  her  hus- 
band's physical  welfare,  while  each  day  tendered  its 
harvest  of  thanks  for  the  work  of  earlier  years.  In 
particular  "Essays  for  the  Day"  brought  many 
appreciative  letters. 

Donald  Mitchell  (Ik  Marvel),  whose  "Reveries 
of  a  Bachelor"  had  awakened  admiration  in  his  college 
days,  wrote  him  now  not  only  as  a  fellow  litterateur, 
but  a  neighbor  and  friend : 

Your  books  invite  and  reward  that  deliberate  reading 
which  ensures  wide  spaces  for  tliinking. 


RETIREMENT  345 

Homer  Sprague  wrote  with  still  warmer  apprecia- 
tion; Francis  Peabody  of  Harvard  expressed  his 
pleasure  in  the  book  and  also  the  new  friendship, 
promising  himself  further  conference  when  he  should 
come  as  Lyman  Beecher  lecturer  in  1904  at  the 
Divinity  School,  and  there  were  many  visits  from 
Gordon  to  bring  high  thought  and  good  cheer. 

Two  letters  to  Andrew  D.  "V'VHiite  from  this  period 
throw  light  upon  Hunger's  thinking.  On  January 
14,  1905,  he  writes: 

You  must  let  me  tell  you  with  what  deep  interest  we — that 
is  Mrs.  Munger,  Rose  and  myself — have  read  your  two 
papers  on  Grotius.  They  seem  to  me  to  be  history  of  the 
first  order.  Also  I  think  they  are  of  great  value  at  the 
present  time.  Grotius  seems  to  me  to  be  a  vital  spirit  in 
the  unfolding  of  humanity.  I  think  some  years  ago  I  called 
your  attention  to  Dr.  Bushnell's  eloquent  words  on  him  in 
one  of  his  addresses,  and  also  to  the  part  played  by  Grotius 
in  New  England  theology.  As  you  know,  the  entire  history 
of  theology  in  New  England  may  be  called  an  improvement. 
Every  stage  was  an  advance  on  the  previous.  The  great 
Edwards  while  he  made  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  far 
better  than  that  in  England  still  left  it  in  a  very  unsatis- 
factory and  illogical  condition.  His  son  was  a  keener  man 
than  his  father,  and  also  was  more  familiar  with  the  progress 
of  thought,  and  became  acquainted  with  Grotius'  view  of  the 
Atonement.     This  view  was  not  the  expiatory  or  Calvinistic 


346    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

view,  but  the  governmental  view,  and  is  in  keeping  with 
Arminian  theology,  to  which  you  refer.  The  younger 
Edwards,  while  a  pastor  of  the  church  of  which  I  am  now 
pastor  emeritm,  introduced  the  view  of  Grotius,  and  it  was 
universally  accepted  in  New  England.  It  was  a  great 
improvement  and  brought  immense  relief  through  our  Dr. 
Taylor  in  New  Haven.  It  is  all  over  today,  but  it  was 
great  in  its  day  and  is  to  be  remembered  with  honor. 
***** 

I  learn  from  the  papers  that  you  have  given  up  the 
lecture  in  the  Dodge  course  [on  civics] — to  my  great  regret, 
as  it  lessens  my  hope  of  seeing  you  very  soon.  I  also  regret 
it  because  a  fine  chance  is  lost  to  urge  one  of  the  most  vital 
subjects  up — namely  Peace.  It  has  laid  hold  of  the  thought 
of  the  day  and  it  is  a  pity  to  miss  any  chance  to  nourish  it. 
Perhaps  you  have  caught  my  disease — Anno  Domini. 

Always  faithfully  yours, 

T.    T.    MUNGER. 

Students  of  the  New  England  theolog}^  will  find 
interest  in  this  half-forgotten  page  so  localized  in 
New  Haven  surroundings.  Admirers  of  Grotius, 
statesman,  lawyer,  theologian,  and  advocate  of  inter- 
national peace,  will  find  pleasure  in  it.  To  the  reader 
who  recalls  Hunger  in  college  debate,  and  his  "voice 
for  war"  as  the  great  providential  promoter  of  civili- 


RETIREMENT  347 

zation  and  check  on  overpopulation,  there  will  be  an 
amusing  discrepancy,  easily  accounted  for  by  the 
exigencies  of  college  debaters. 

Other  letters  to  the  same  old  friend  show  the 
clergyman  in  his  own  field  to  be  the  better  peacemaker 
of  the  two.  The  application  of  Robertson's  principles 
of  teaching  proved  more  diplomatic  than  the  "War- 
fare of  Science  and  Religion." 

I  could  see  more  clearly  [from  White's  article  on  "Sarpi" 
in  the  December  Atlanticl  why  you  took  exception  to  my 
over-charity  for  the  Roman  church.  The  inner  view  and 
the  long  view,  I  suppose,  create  permanent  convictions.  I 
do  not  quarrel  with  them,  but  I  have  become  dissatisfied  with 
every  church  taken  by  itself,  yet  feel  there  is  tremendous 
truth  and  power  hidden  somewhere  amongst  them.  And  so 
I  have  come  to  accept  them  all,  and — as  it  were — adapt 
myself  into  each  one  and  take  it  as  it  is.  Besides,  I  see 
how  necessary  the  Church  of  Rome  is  to  us  at  the  present 
time,  and  what  a  hell  we  should  have  without  its  restraints 
and  constraints.  I  have  unlimited  faith  in  Democracy,  and 
the  gates  of  Rome  will  not  prevail  against  it.  Meanwhile 
they  will  be  of  much  use.  Besides,  we  have  much  to  learn 
from  it. 

As  to  charity,  I  thought  I  had  reached  the  full  flower 
of  it  until  our  Dean  Burr  came  along  the  other  day,  and 
took  me  up  for  making  any  exceptions  whatever,  saying, 
"We  have  at  Cornell  some  Mormons  and  Christian  Scientists 


348    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

who  are  most  active  in  our  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  and  most  exem- 
plary," etc.  I  took  off  my  hat  to  him  as  a  broader  man 
than  myself. 

Hunger's  conception  of  catholicity  followed  Rob- 
ertson's second  principle,  "Truth  is  made  up  of  two 
opposite  propositions,  and  not  found  in  a  via  media 
between  the  two."  Another  extract  will  show  how  he 
had  applied  in  practice  the  third,  "Spiritual  truth  is 
discerned  by  the  spirit,  instead  of  intellectually  in 
propositions;  and  therefore  truth  should  be  taught 
suggestivelj^  not  dogmatically."  The  letter,  written 
in  ]May,  1905,  acknowledges  the  receipt  of  a  volume 
somewhat  in  the  vein  of  White's  own  "Warfare  of 
Science  and  Theology." 

I  am  glad  that  this  mass  of  fine  and  correct  criticism  did 
not  come  to  me  at  one  time.  I  learned  it  better  in  the  way 
I  did,  than  if  at  once,  and  from  another.  Not  much  of  a 
religious  nature  can  be  learned  from  books.  It  comes 
through  the  play  of  one's  own  nature  and  in  other  ways 
than  by  what  is  called  "getting  at  the  facts,"  though  of 
course  the  facts  have  a  certain  use. 

I  don't  want  to  bore  you,  but  I  would  like  to  .illustrate 
from  my  own  experience  how  new  truth  is  to  be  got  into 
people's  lives  and  belief.  For  example,  I  spent  eight  years 
at  North  Adams,  and  nearly  twenty  years  here  in  New  Haven. 
At  each  place  I  was  forced  on  entrance  to  make  a  stout 


RETIREMENT  349 

denial  of  everlasting  punishment.  But  I  did  not  enter  upon 
a  series  of  denials  and  sharp  distinctions  between  old  and 
new,  but  preached  and  followed  almost  unconsciously 
Robertson's  "Six  Principles"  (see  Life,  Vol.  II.,  p.  160), 
that  is,  by  suggestion  and  never  dogmatically.  As  a  result, 
after  the  years  were  over,  I  came  in  each  church  to  find  a 
solid  following  of  people  thinking  as  I  thought — not  exactly, 
but  near  enough — by  slow  and  natural  process,  retaining  a 
great  deal  that  was  both  old  and  good  and  true.  In  New 
Haven  it  was  two  or  three  years  before  they  fell  in,  but 
at  last  they  were  absolutely  one  with  me.  .  .  .  Before  I 
resigned  the  old  creed  was  given  up  and  a  creed  without 
dogma  or  miracle  was  adopted. 

One  more  wreath  was  to  be  placed  upon  the  good 
gray  head.  It  was  fitting  that  it  should  come  from  the 
university  which  he  had  loved  so  long  and  served  so 
well.  But  for  the  unbroken  rule  that  Yale  decrees  no 
honors  to  her  own  officers,  the  bicentennial  year,  in 
which  Hunger's  own  class  had  returned  for  its  fiftieth 
anniversary,  would  have  been  the  appropriate  one  for 
giving  him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity.  Har- 
vard gracefully  anticipated  the  honor  while  Munger 
was  still  a  member  of  the  Yale  Corporation.  His 
resignation  in  1905  removed  the  only  obstacle.  In 
1908,  on  the  same  commencement  occasion  when  his 
son  received  his  diploma  as  a  graduate  of  the  Forestry 


850    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

School,  the  slender  form,  still  but  slightly  bowed, 
stood  forth  before  the  great  assembly  in  Woolsey 
Hall  while  the  public  orator  of  the  university 
announced  the  degree.  The  president  in  brief,  well- 
chosen  phrase  presented  the  diploma,  and  as  the  white 
head  was  bowed,  the  marshals  hung  about  his  neck 
the  blue  hood  with  scarlet  facings,  while  the  hall  rang 
with  prolonged  applause.  We  cannot  choose  words 
more  fitting  to  conclude  the  story  of  Hunger's  public 
career  than  those  which  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of 
the  assembly  as  they  joined  in  this  tribute  to  a  worthy 
son  of  Yale,  a  good  servant  "in  church  and  civil  state." 
To  the  hundreds  of  Dr.  Hunger's  friends  who  had 
long  looked  up  to  him  as  their  spiritual  guide,  the 
orator  seemed  to  voice  the  unspoken  words  of  a 
generation  of  grateful  hearts : 

"  Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night, 
For  the  morning  seems  to  dawn. 
Traveler,  darkness  takes  its  flight 
Doubt    and    Terror    are    withdrawn." 

Preacher  of  Righteousness  in  hope  and  faith  for  more 
than  fifty  years ;  guide  by  word  and  pen  to  the  uplands 
and  mountain  sides  and  summit  peaks  of  religious  thought 
and  life ;  sympathetic  biographer  and  worthy  successor  of 
New   England's    Horace   Bushnell;   for   more   than   twenty 


RETIREMENT  351 

years  a  potent  force  in  the  hearts  and  lives  of  the  people 
of  this  city;  already  crowned  with  highest  academic  honors 
by  other  and  the  greatest  of  our  universities;  why,  towards 
his  evening,  when  the  storm  clouds  of  religious  controversy 
leave  only  faint  mutterings  on  the  distant  horizon,  and  a 
clear  sky  is  seen  at  last  to  be,  as  he  always  knew  it  to  be, 
studded  with  the  constant  stars — why  should  not  his  own 
university,  to  which  he  has  brought  honor  and  faithful 
service,  likewise  honor  him? 

"  Watchman,  let  thy  wanderings  cease. 
Hie  thee  to  thy  quiet  home. 
Traveler,  lo,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
Lo,  the  Son  of  God  is  come." 

Twilight  came  gently  on.  The  home  circle  shel- 
tered him  more  closely,  and  the  broken  ranks  of  old- 
time  friends  closed  around  him.  Bereavements  there 
were ;  for  this  same  early  summer  saw  the  tragic  death 
of  his  greatly  beloved  successor  in  the  parish  and  also 
that  of  his  last  surviving  brother.  But  his  affections 
were  not  set  on  things  on  the  earth.  His  look  was 
upward  and  outward.  Little  by  little  the  erect  frame 
grew  less  firm,  the  faculties  of  mind,  so  long  clear 
and  disciplined,  wavered.  Now  bright  with  the  old 
vigor  and  lustre,  they  were  again  veiled  and  uncertain. 
Surrounded  with  love  and  tenderness,  honored  by  a 
host  of  friends,  blessed  by  children's  children,  he  trod 


352  THEODORE  THORNTON  ]VIUNGER 

the  path  whence  none  returns,  walking  unfalteringly 
in  the  comfort  of  a  reasonable,  religious  and  holy 
hope. 

The  end  came  on  the  eleventh  of  January,  1910,  a 
few  weeks  before  he  had  attained  to  fourscore  years. 
It  was  a  beautiful  winter's  evening.  He  sat  among 
his  books  looking  out  toward  the  sunset,  dreaming  as 
in  boyhood  days  with  his  dog  at  his  feet.  Into  the 
brightness  of  the  glorious  west  he  looked — and  passed 
away,  painlessly  and  in  utter  peace. 

Hail,  tranquil  hour  of  closing  day. 

Begone,  disturbing  care, 
And  look,  my  soul,  from  earth  away 

To  Him  that  heareth  prayer. 

Calmly  the  day  forsakes  our  heaven 

To  dawn  beyond  the  west; 
So  let  my  soul  in  life's  last  even, 

Retire  to  glorious  rest. 


CHAPTER  XI 
APPRECIATIONS 

The  death  of  eminent  men  eaUs  forth  three  differ- 
ent kinds  of  characterization.  Resolutions  of  respect 
and  sympathy  are  passed  by  various  organizations. 
Obituary  notices  in  the  public  press  attest  the  esteem 
in  which  he  was  held  by  the  public  and  its  sense  of 
obligation  for  service  rendered.  Letters  from  friends 
express  the  loss  felt  in  this  more  intimate  circle. 
Finally,  in  some  few  cases,  inscriptions  in  marble  and 
bronze  will  enshrine  for  future  generations  the  dis- 
tinctive value  of  the  life  they  commemorate. 

In  the  case  of  Dr.  Munger  all  these  forms  of  char- 
acterization were  employed.  We  need  not  dwell  upon 
the  resolutions  of  sympathy  and  respect  by  the  Yale 
Corporation,  the  New  Haven  Association  of  Con- 
gregational Ministers,  and  similar  organizations,  but 
our  estimate  of  Dr.  Hunger's  service  to  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal and  social  life  of  New  England  would  not  be 
complete  without  the  record  of  public  tributes  at 
commemorative  services.  A  more  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  man  in  his  home  character  and  daily  habit  of 


354    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

thought  and  life  may  also  be  obtained  from  those 
whose  estimates  are  based  on  a  closer  familiarity. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  a  blinding  snowstorm  on 
January  14  that  Dr.  JNlunger  was  laid  to  rest  in  the 
Grove  Street  Cemetery  near  his  Xew  Haven  home, 
while  church  bells  tolled  and  people  reverently  un- 
covered. The  services  were  held  in  the  United 
Church,  led  by  the  pastor,  Rev.  R.  C.  Denison, 
assisted  by  Professor  Bacon  of  the  Divinity  School 
and  Dr.  Stewart  Means,  rector  of  St.  John's  Episco- 
pal Church.  Brief  addresses  were  made  and  the  con- 
gregation, large  in  spite  of  the  storm,  joined  in  the 
singing  of  two  favorite  hymns.  But  the  memory  of 
their  beloved  pastor  was  not  left  by  the  church  to  the 
hearing  of  the  ear.  In  due  time  a  tablet  was  placed 
near  the  pulpit  so  long  made  memorable  by  his  minis- 
tration. Its  sculptured  symbols,  flowers  typical  of 
earthly  beauty,  purity,  and  transiency,  and  a  lamp 
and  flame  symbolic  of  the  eternal  life,  reiterate  his 
message.  Its  inscription  sets  forth  his  record  of 
service  in  lines  cut  on  spotless  Norwegian  marble : 

1830  1910 

Theodore  Thornton  Munger,  D.  D. 

A  Messenger  of  the  Spirit  to  the  Churches 

Pastor  of  this  People,  1885-1910 


APPRECIATIONS  355 

Dwelling  in  the  presence  of  God,  seeking  all  truth 

Hailing  all  progress  and  loving  all  freedom 

He  summoned  this  church  to  the  service  of  city  and  world 

Seeing  light  he  led  many  into  light  and  entered  into 

Fullness  of  light. 

Of  the  memorial  services  at  the  unveiling  of  this 
tablet  we  shall  have  more  to  say  hereafter.  At  an 
earlier  date  the  university  had  paid  a  corresponding 
tribute.  On  November  1,  1910,  a  group  gathered  in 
the  rotunda  of  its  Memorial  Hall  to  witness  the  pres- 
entation of  a  bronze  portrait  in  bas-relief.  The 
monument  was  a  gift  to  the  university  from  friends  of 
Dr.  Hunger,  Dr.  E.  P.  Parker  of  Hartford,  his  col- 
league in  the  corporation,  making  the  commemorative 
address.  Dr.  Parker  spoke  the  language  of  personal 
friendship  and  esteem.  In  accepting  the  gift,  Prof. 
Bernadotte  Perrin,  who  as  orator  had  so  moved  all 
hearts  at  the  conferral  of  the  degree,  again  spoke  on 
behalf  of  the  university.  The  portrait  in  its  academic 
garb,  clasping  in  its  left  hand  a  book,  the  face  and 
attitude  suggesting  only  the  serene  dignity  of  noble 
thought,  speaks  to  the  world  of  Munger  as  the  "uni- 
versity preacher"  that  he  was. 

The  following  extract,  from  one  who  as  assistant  to 
Dr.  Munger  had  more  than  the  ordinary  means  of 


356    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

knowing,  bears  witness  to  the  reasons  for  the  effective- 
ness of  this  service  "as  university  preacher  in  many 
colleges,  as  friend  and  counsellor  of  young  men" : 

The  "Optimist"  (Rev.  Frederick  Lynch)  began  his  min- 
istry as  assistant  to  him  and  came  under  his  abiding  influ- 
ence then,  and  before  as  a  student.  .  .  .  He  would  like 
to  mention  two  characteristics  of  Dr.  Munger's  that 
greatly  impressed  him.  One  was  his  sense  of  the  sacred- 
ness  of  work.  He  looked  upon  his  task,  if  a  thing  worth 
doing  at  all,  as  a  thing  that  must  be  done  as  perfectly  as 
he  could  do  it,  with  utmost  pains  and  care.  He  hated 
slovenliness  in  either  speech  or  writing.  An  ill-prepared 
sermon  irritated  him.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to  the  writer, 
he  thought  sermons  which  showed  a  lack  of  hard  thinking 
and  hard  work  sins  perpetrated  by  irreverent  men.  Every 
one  of  his  own  sermons  is  a  work  of  art.  Every  sentence 
is  a  thought  expressed  in  choicest  language.  .  .  .  Many 
hours  went  into  the  preparation  of  every  sermon. 

The  other  thing  is  this.  He  came  as  near  the  ideal  of  a 
gentleman,  in  the  time-honored  sense  of  that  word,  as  any- 
one The  Optimist  ever  knew.  A  gentleman  is  one  who  keeps 
himself  pure,  has  a  high  sense  of  honor,  and  shows  in  all 
his  relationships  a  feeling  for  the  comfort  and  well-being  of 
others.  These  qualities  impressed  all  who  knew  him.  He 
was  continually  preaching  to  young  men  on  this  point.  He 
used  to  read  Cardinal  Newman's  classic  measure  of  a  gen- 
tleman in  "The  Idea  of  a  University,"  but  no  one  ever  better 


APPRECIATIONS  357 

fulfilled  those  remarkable  lines.     To  those  who  knew  him  his 
Hfe  was  the  commentary  of  his  gospel/ 

We  shall  have  occasion  to  return  to  the  testimony 
of  "those  who  knew  him"  regarding  these  habits  of 
daily  life  and  work;  for  Hunger's  life  was  a  success 
because  he  lived  out  the  purpose  set  before  himself 
from  boyhood.  It  had  nothing  of  chance  or  miracle, 
unless  we  so  call  steadfast,  conscientious  labor.  God- 
fearing faithfulness  to  principle  in  the  pursuit  of 
noble  ideals. 

There  is  another  characterization  worthy  to  be 
recalled  in  this  connection,  for  it  presents  the  man  in 
his  place  among  university  men.  It  was  on  occasion 
of  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  Munger's  ordination 
that  a  discriminating  journalistic  friend  wrote  of  him: 

Dr.  Munger  has  not  been  a  preacher  to  the  multitude 
in  a  large  metropolis.  Every  generation  has  great  preach- 
ers to  the  many,  and  great  preachers  to  the  relatively  few; 
preachers  to  the  laity,  and  "preachers  to  preachers,"  who 
in  turn  minister  to  the  many.  Dr.  Munger  belongs  to  the 
latter  class.  His  methods  and  his  ideals  have  contributed 
to  make  his  ministry  "a  continual  disclosure  of  a  beautiful 
spirit,"  in  which,  Hke  Martineau,  meditating  on  divine 
things,  "those  who  would  might  hear." 

1  Rev.  Frederick  Lynch  in  The  Christian  Work  and  Evangelist  for 
January  29,  1910. 


358    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

Lecturing  at  Yale  in  1896  on  the  Lyman  Beecher  Foun- 
dation, Rev.  Dr.  John  Watson,  of  Liverpool,  who,  better 
than  any  other  British  Nonconformist  of  his  day  and  gen- 
eration, has  played  the  dual  role  of  preacher  of  the  Gospel 
and  man  of  letters,  made  a  plea  for  setting  forth  the  science 
of  religion,  i.e.,  theology,  in  a  becoming  dress.  He  argued 
that  it  was  the  great  reproach  of  the  Puritan  di\nnes  of 
England  that  while  they  wrote  so  much  theological  print 
they  contributed  only  one,  possibly  two,  books  to  literature. 
He  contended  that  there  was  no  necessary  antipathy  between 
culture  and  theology  since  there  is  no  reason,  he  said,  "why 
words  should  not  wait  on  the  theologian  like  nimble  servitors 
as  readily  as  on  the  poet."  Indeed,  Dr.  Watson  affirms  "a 
man  cannot  be  a  theologian  unless  he  be  also,  in  spirit,  a 
poet;  for  poetry  and  Christianity  live  and  move  and  have 
their  being  in  the  same  region."  Dr.  Watson  then  proceeded 
to  enumerate  certain  theologians  who  had  been  stylists — 
Hooker,  Jeremy  Taylor,  J.  H.  Newman,  and  Horace  Bush- 
nell  among  them,  and  then  said:  "Theology  which  has  not 
been  in  the  main  current  of  letters  is  invariably  stranded  in 
some  creek  and  forgotten;  the  men  who  added  culture  to 
science  live  and  flourish." 

At  the  time  Dr.  Watson  uttered  these  words  concerning 
a  theory  which  his  own  practice  adorns,  there  was  then  in 
the  active  ministry  in  the  city  where  he  spoke,  a  preacher  and 
author — Dr.  Munger — who,  better  probably  than  any  other 
man  of  his  generation  in  the  line  of  descent  of  the  New  Eng- 


APPRECIATIONS  359 

land  Puritans,  had  revealed  that  felicitous  union  of  good 
form  and  solid  matter,  finished  style  and  enduring  substance, 
pious  culture  and  refined  religion,  modern  humanism  and  the 
Gospel,  for  which  Dr.  Watson  pleaded.^ 

The  extract,  notable  for  its  just  sense  of  the  dis- 
tinctive element  in  Dr.  Munger's  service  in  theology 
and  literature,  must  serve  to  illustrate  the  mass  of 
appreciations  from  the  press.  Religious  periodicals 
such  as  The  Congregationalist  and  the  London  Chris- 
tian World  were  not  alone.  The  secular  press  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  paid  its  well-merited  tribute 
to  the  New  England  minister,  often  linking  his  name 
with  that  of  Bushnell.    Thus  The  Outlook  declared : 

Dr.  Munger  was  Bushn ell's  disciple  and  legitimate  suc- 
cessor, resembling  him  in  mental  temper  and  spiritual 
insight.  He  was  the  fittest  man  to  write  that  classic  biog- 
raphy which  so  justly  appreciates  his  forerunner's  relation 
both  to  the  old  theology  and  the  new.  The  irenic  and 
mediating  spirit  of  Bushnell,  so  conspicuous  in  his  corre- 
spondence, of  a  kind  then  rare,  with  Dr.  Bartol,  the  distin- 
guished Unitarian  divine,  was  characteristic  of  Dr.  Munger 
also.  Quoting  Phillips  Brooks'  remark  that  the  Unitarian 
schism  in  New  England  could  not  have  occurred  had  modern 
exegesis  then  existed,  he  strove  for  the  reunion  of  the  sepa- 
rated   sections    of    the   historic    church    of    the    Mayflower, 

2G.  P.  Morris  in  Yale  Alumni  Weekly  for  February  15,  1906. 


360    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

declaring  that  from  its  division  had  sprung  pharisaism  on 
the  one  hand  and  agnosticism  on  the  other. 

We  must  turn  to  the  more  intimate  views  of  "those 
who  knew  him  best."  One  who  had  come  into  very- 
intimate  relations  as  assistant  pastor^  wrote : 

I  count  Doctor  my  father  in  God,  and  association  with 
him  the  better  part  of  what  training  for  the  ministry  came 
to  me. 

He  has  given  me  so  much  in  many  ways  that  I  could  speak 
of  many  sides  of  his  rich  life.  The  one  thing  that  rises  up 
to  shut  out  every  other  thought  is  his  sweet  spirit. 

Do  you  remember  his  remark  after  the  funeral  at  which 
he  had  spoken  of  Deacon  Thompson  as  "a  good  man".'*  As 
we  three  started  away  in  the  carriage  he  said  with  as  deep 
feeling  as  I  ever  saw  him  manifest:  "I  declare,  I  wish  that 
could  be  said  of  me  when  I  go — a  good  man!  I  care  nothing 
about  anything  else.  The  other  things  said  of  men  are 
nothing  by   comparison."    .     .     . 

We  have  known  one  of  God's  rarest  spirits.  May  his  life 
ever  help  us  to  be  faithful  to  Him  whose  servant  he  was  and 
is. 

Still  a  third  wrote  out  of  the  same  close  association : 

As  I  remember  our  talk   of  plans   for  work   among  the 
young  people  I  recall  his  tender,  personal  interest  in  certain 
young  men  who  may  not  have  known  that  he  thought  of 
8  Rev.  H.  R.  Miles. 


APPRECIATIONS  361 

them  thus  individually.  I  think  of  the  high  level  of  motive 
and  purpose  that  became  natural  to  certain  young  people 
because  he  lived  on  that  level  and  week  by  week  lifted  them 
up  toward  it.    .    .    . 

Then  I  think  of  the  wisdom  and  beauty  of  his  teaching, 
and  again  I  find  the  root  of  it  all  in  his  goodness.  For  I 
know  how  faithfully  he  worked.  In  his  humility  he  actually 
shrank  from  his  office  as  preacher.  He  mounted  the  pulpit 
week  by  week  almost,  or  quite,  unwilhngly.  But  in  his  faith- 
fulness he  shut  himself  up  in  his  study  to  prepare  himself 
for  his  service.  He  held  himself  steadily  to  the  ideal  that 
he  set  before  others — not  the  ambition  to  excel,  but  to  do 
one's  best.^ 

''Lowly  faithful"  are  words  that  have  little  of  the 
heroic  ring.    Lives  of  which  we  say 

An  honored  life,  a  peaceful  end 
And  heaven  to  crown  it  all. 

may  lack  the  dramatic  factor.  But  though  imagina- 
tion be  not  stirred  there  is  still  value  in  learning  how 
success  has  been  won  in  the  pursuit  of  a  noble,  un- 
selfish ideal  of  life.  If  one  in  the  closest  of  all  rela- 
tions bears  witness  to  the  same  ideal  in  the  daily  life, 
then  it  is  worth  while  that  the  daily  practice  itself  be 
set  down,  in  order  that  the  spirit,  at  least,  of  a  typical 
New  England  ministry  may  not  be  lost,  as  new  gen- 

*  Prof.  John  Pitt  Deane,  Beloit,  Wis. 


362    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

erations  come  to  take  up  the  service  and  responsi- 
bilities of  the  old.  Of  the  life  in  his  New  Haven 
parish  ^Irs.  JMunger  writes  as  follows : 

Except  on  Mondays,  which  were  (comparatively)  rest 
days,  Dr.  Hunger  spent  the  hours  from  about  9  a.m.  to 
1  p.m.  alone  in  his  study,  preparing  for  the  next  Sunday 
and  writing  the  weekly  sermon.  He  has  told  me  that  he 
usually  spent  the  first  hour  in  his  study  in  meditation,  and 
"before  I  begin  to  write,"  he  said,  "I  try  to  put  myself  into 
the  consciousness  of  Christ."  Perhaps  an  average  of  fifteen 
hours'  real  work  went  into  most  sermons.  From  four  to 
five  afternoons  a  week  were  given  to  parish  calls  all  over 
the  city.  Often  aged  parishioners  asked  him  to  offer  prayer 
in  their  homes,  or  he  suggested  it  himself  with  them  or  with 
the  sick.  He  attached  much  importance  to  the  mid-week 
meeting  of  the  church,  and  made  careful  and  thoughtful 
preparation  for  it,  making  full  notes  of  the  talk  he  wished 
to  give,  the  points  he  wanted  to  impress.  At  his  New  Year's 
morning  prayer  meeting,  begun  in  North  Adams,  and  con- 
tinued through  the  New  Haven  pastorate,  he  was  almost  at 
his  best,  and  to  it  he  gave  long  thought,  and  work,  and 
prayer.  Under  his  guidance  it  had  a  decided  influence  on 
the  people. 

He  was  most  particular  in  his  choice  of  hymns,  spending 
much  care  in  a  selection  which  would  make  the  service  a 
unit.  He  thoroughly  believed  in  congregational  singing  in 
church  and  secured  it.     At  home  all  the  music  was  a  rest 


APPRECIATIONS  363 

and  delight  to  him.  He  used  to  say  that  listening  to  fine 
music  was  always  a  "thought  starter"  with  him,  and  I  have 
often  seen  him  make  notes  as  he  listened. 

His  ideas  of  hospitahty  were  unbounded,  and  the  home 
kept  open  doors.  I  had  to  guard  his  study  hours  from 
intruders,  and  often  be  quite  stem  in  saving  them  from 
interruption.  During  the  seven  years  when  the  Men's  Club 
of  the  United  Church  held  Sunday  evening  services,  the 
speaker  at  that  service  usually  was  our  guest,  and  the  gath- 
erings in  the  study  of  interesting  men  from  far  and  near 
on  the  evenings  of  Saturday  and  Sunday  were  notable.  He 
was  a  good  listener,  and  knew  how  to  draw  out  what  was 
best  in  others.  Often  until  the  small  hours  the  talk  went 
round  during  those  years  of  the  nineties. 

To  young  men  seeking  his  counsel  he  gave  his  best 
thought,  and  both  in  personal  conversation  and  in  writing 
gave  freely  of  his  time.  I  think  there  was  unusual  love  felt 
for  him  among  them,  and  often  in  public  places,  and  at 
social  functions  a  group  of  men  formed  about  him. 

He  took  especial  interest  in  all  young  men  preparing  for 
the  ministry,  and  felt  his  own  responsibility  at  their  ordina- 
tion or  installation,  and  at  all  ministerial  conferences  in 
the  neighborhood.  He  often  gave  whole  days  to  these  gath- 
erings, even  at  serious  inconvenience,  because  he  felt  he 
"ought  to  fulfill  his  part  toward  the  coming  workers." 

His  interest  in  missions  was  great,  but  especially  in  his 
later  years  did  his  mind  and  heart  reach  out  to  the  foreign 


864    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

work.  He  used  to  say,  "We  have  come  to  a  time  when  we 
must  think  in  world  terms,"  and  "Christianity  is  nothing 
unless  it  is  universal."  He  grieved  over  what  he  felt  must 
be  a  lack  in  his  own  influence  and  preaching  if  the  churches 
he  served  failed  to  meet  his  hopes  in  their  interest  in  and 
gifts  to  the  foreign  work.  Missionaries  were  not  forgotten 
in  his  prayers,  and  in  all  possible  ways  their  work  was  kept 
before  the  church.     His  horizon  never  narrowed. 

Hunger's  character  had  the  rare  combination  of 
poetic  insight  with  practical  efficiency.  He  saw 
visions  and  dreamed  dreams,  but  he  could  also  turn 
from  them  to  the  laborious  tasks  of  sustained  mental 
and  physical  effort.  To  his  inborn  refinement  and 
feeling  for  beauty  he  added  a  keen  sense  of  duty 
and  above  all  conscientious  industry.  All  his  asso- 
ciates in  the  ministry  speak  of  his  intolerance  of 
neglect  in  preparation  for  the  pulpit  or  in  parish 
work.  It  dated  from  the  beginnings,  when  the  youth- 
ful pastor  in  the  Village  Church  of  Dorchester  set 
himself  to  obey  the  counsels  of  a  "wise  father"  regard- 
ing the  self-discipline  of  the  minister.  Friendliness  of 
disposition,  the  bearing  and  culture  of  a  gentleman, 
aesthetic  taste,  and  refinement  have  much  to  do  with 
success  in  life,  especially  the  life  of  a  minister.  But 
after  all  "the  secret  of  genius  is  the  capacity  for  hard 
work."    All  were  required  for  the  part  Hunger  was 


APPRECIATIONS  365 

to  play  in  the  ecclesiastical  crisis  of  his  time.  On  this 
point  we  may  quote  from  one  who  stood  at  the  storm 
centre.    Dr.  Newman  Smyth  writes  as  follows : 

When  Dr.  Munger  came  to  New  Haven  a  new  storm  centre 
had  developed  in  New  England  theology,  and  the  contro- 
versy was  at  its  height.  For  New  Haven  Congregational- 
ism the  liberty  of  the  pulpit  had  been  already  determined 
by  a  large  and  representative  Council,  which  after  a  pro- 
longed theological  examination  and  discussion  had  voted, 
with  substantial  unanimity,  to  proceed  with  my  installation 
as  pastor  of  Centre  Church.  When  Dr.  Munger  was  called 
to  the  United  Church,  I  was  able,  consequently,  to  urge  his 
coming  with  the  assurance  that  no  repetition  of  his  experi- 
ence at  North  Adams  would  occur;  and  without  serious  dis- 
sension the  Council  of  our  churches  welcomed  him  to  New 
Haven.  The  session  of  the  Council  was  made  notable  chiefly 
by  an  outspoken  utterance  of  President  Porter  in  support 
of  Dr.  Munger,  as  he  answered  an  intimation  that  theologi- 
cal liberty  in  the  pulpits  of  New  Haven  might  be  detrimental 
to  Yale  College.  Thus  was  begun  a  close  relation  and 
friendship  between  Dr.  Munger  and  myself,  which  was  con- 
tinued without  passing  cloud  or  shadow  of  momentary  mis- 
understanding through  many  years  of  comradesliip  in  work 
and  thought,  and  which  I  cherish  among  the  happiest  and 
richest  blessings  of  my  ministerial  life.  Dr.  Munger's  high 
sense  of  the  ethics  of  ministerial  relations,  his  loyalty  to  his 
brethren  in  the  ministry,  as  well  as  his  intellectual  sympathy 


366    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

\s4th  the  thoughts  and  problems  of  other  minds,  rendered  his 
companionship  and  counsel  a  privilege  and  delight  to  all  of 
us  who  were  associated  with  him  throughout  his  ministry.  To 
me  it  was  a  fellowship  in  the  ministry  ever  to  be  cherished 
among  the  memories  of  the  precious  gifts  of  God.  As  the 
beginning  of  my  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Munger  was  thus  an 
hour  of  quietness  of  spirit  and  hght,  while  the  theological 
controversy  outside  was  raging,  so  as  his  day  was  drawing  to 
a  close  there  came  another  hour,  serene  and  luminous,  when 
his  spirit  shone  through  the  clouds  which  had  gathered  be- 
tween his  mind  and  ours  shortly  before  his  passing,  and  his 
thought  and  words  reflected,  as  in  a  rare  sunsetting,  the 
Light  of  the  Divine  presence  in  which  all  his  life  he  had 
thought  and  lived.  When  we  first  met,  it  was  a  time  of  con- 
troversy. This  last  walk  and  conversation,  to  which  I  look 
back  as  the  fitting  close  of  our  comradeship,  occurred  at  a 
time  when  that  day  of  doctrinal  dissension  had  passed,  and 
we  were  both  looking  forward  in  hope  toward  the  da\vn  of 
another  day  of  larger  Christianity  and  catholicity.  He  had 
attended  a  meeting  in  which  by  invitation  of  the  Bishop  of 
Connecticut  I  had  been  permitted  to  address  the  clergy  of  his 
diocese  on  this  subject:  Wliat  concessions  on  either  side  may 
reasonably  be  made  to  promote  Church  unity?  As  I  walked 
with  Dr.  Munger  to  his  home,  his  interest  in  the  theme  had 
so  stirred  and  stimulated  him  that  his  mind  seemed  to  break 
loose  from  the  physical  inhibitions  wliich  his  brain  had  been 
enforcing  upon  his  power  to  express  his  thought,   and  he 


APPRECIATIONS  367 

spoke  for  some  moments  freely  and  at  his  best.  I  cannot 
recall  as  I  would  his  exact  words;  but  I  cannot  forget  the 
impression  which  he  made  of  a  man  looking  out  upon  the 
present  and  into  the  future  as  one  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible,  and  walking  with  God. 

You  ask  me  to  write  of  the  larger  aspects  of  the  story 
of  progressive  theology;  to  do  that  now  is  not  only  a  more 
pleasing  task,  but  it  is  more  congruous  with  all  my  recollec- 
tions of  Dr.  Hunger  than  would  be  the  effort  to  relate  in 
detail  the  incidents  and  phases  of  the  theological  discussion 
which  was  kindled  over  the  incident  of  my  election  to  the 
Chair  of  Theology  at  Andover,  and  which  for  a  time  threat- 
ened to  create  a  new  schism  among  the  Congregational 
churches.  Dr.  Hunger's  active  participation  in  it  was 
mainly  in  the  Hume  case  which  you  have  already  described. 
It  was  fortunate  for  the  cause  of  progressive  theology  that 
it  had  from  the  mission  field  so  good  a  representative  as  Hr. 
Hume,  and  that  he  had  a  home  church  and  a  pastor  so 
loyal  and  strong  to  help  us  stand  by  him  when  he  was  under 
fire,  and  to  reinforce  the  Andover  professors  in  their  gallant 
and  self-sacrificing  stand  for  the  liberty  of  young  men  to 
carry  Christ's  words  of  spirit  and  life  to  the  nations,  untram- 
meled  by  the  forms  and  limitations  of  the  traditional  New 
England  theology.  Dr.  Hunger  cared  Httle  for  the  par- 
ticular doctrinal  statements  around  which  the  controversy 
raged ;  but  he  cared  much  for  the  faith  which  to  him  was  both 
deeper  and  broader  than  all  formulated  statements  of  it; 


368    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

and  he  regarded  it  as  a  supreme  obligation  of  his  church  to 
maintain  the  Christian  right  of  Mr.  Hume  to  be  a  missionary 
of  the  American  Board.  The  more  active  duty  of  agitation 
fell  to  others;  Andover  became  the  centre  of  controversy, 
and  my  brother,  Professor  Egbert  C.  Smyth,  was  made  the 
chief  object  of  theological  attack,  as  he  was  the  acknowl- 
edged leader  of  the  movement,  as  well  as  the  profoundest 
and  most  catholic  scholar  and  theologian  of  us  all;  but  Dr. 
Munger's  personal  influence  was  alwaj^s  in  the  movement  and 
his  writings  were  potential  and  inspiring  in  the  minds  of  many 
thoughtful  men. 

If  some  day  the  historian  of  religious  thought  in  New 
England  shall  complete  the  story  of  progressive  orthodoxy 
since  Bushnell,  he  will  find  ample  materials  for  this  culminat- 
ing chapter  in  the  books  and  pamphlets,  the  statements  of 
beUef  before  councils,  as  well  as  in  the  current  newspapers 
and  Reviews  of  the  period;  and  especially  in  the  editorials 
of  successive  numbers  of  The  Andover  Review.  A  brief 
sketch  of  it  may  suffice  to  enable  one  to  appreciate  Dr. 
Munger's  interest  and  part  in  it. 

If  often  happens,  where  a  conflict  between  opposing  forces 
is  inevitable,  that  the  field  where  the  battle  is  joined  seems 
to  be  quite  accidental.  Often  the  immediate  occasion  for 
the  outbreak  of  hostilities  has  been  some  minor  incident  or 
subordinate  issue.  Such  was  the  occasion  of  what  soon  came 
to  be  called  the  Andover  controversy.  ^\nien  the  Trustees 
of  the  Andover  Seminary  had  elected  me  to  the  then  vacant 


APPRECIATIONS  369 

Professorship  of  Theology,  outside  guardians  of  the  faith 
suddenly  discovered  a  passage  of  a  few  pages  in  a  sermon 
that  I  had  had  occasion  to  deliver  in  response  to  a  challenge 
from  a  club  of  unbelievers,  which  appeared  to  them  to  be  con- 
trary to  the  Scriptures  and  a  dangerous  speculation.  It  had 
been  in  my  own  thinking  a  minor  consideration,  which  was 
suggested  as  one  among  other  possible  answers  to  those  who 
rejected  Christ  because  of  our  dogmatism  in  His  Name 
concerning  the  future  life.  At  the  time  my  own  mind  was 
much  more  engaged  with  more  fundamental  problems, 
which  have  since  become  dominant  subjects  of  biblical  and 
historical  criticism. 

Even  then  the  matter  might  have  ended  where  it  began, 
had  not  some  young  men  from  our  seminaries  been  kept  back 
from  foreign  missionary  service  because  they  had  manifested 
sympathy  with  such  views,  and  a  tendency  to  independent 
questioning  concerning  the  possible  opportunity  for  heathen 
to  come  to  a  saving  knowledge  of  Christ  after  death.  But 
the  challenge  thus  made  could  not  be  dechned;  and  at  the 
memorable  meeting  of  the  American  Board  at  Des  Moines 
a  small  company  of  us  were  forced  to  make  a  stand  on  this 
issue  for  the  sake  of  the  larger  liberty  of  consecrated  young 
men  in  the  ministry  at  home  as  well  as  on  missionary  fields. 
It  is,  I  think,  one  of  the  noteworthy  and  gracious  distinc- 
tions of  this  theological  conflict,  which  became  general  and 
was  intense  while  it  lasted,  that  the  same  generation  that 
saw  the  beginning  of  it,  also  saw  it  ended,  and  almost  for- 


370    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

gotten.  Clergymen  who  at  its  inception  had  taken  their 
position  in  opposing  array,  when  the  principles  for  which 
the  little  band  of  liberals  had  pleaded  at  Des  Moines  had 
at  last  received  due  recognition,  soon  forgot  their  differ- 
ences, and  the  young  men  were  sent  forward  to  work  out 
their  faith  in  their  ministry  without  further  hindrance  either 
by  ordaining  councils  or  by  the  administration  of  the  Ameri- 
can Board.  The  debate  had  been  brought  to  clear  issue  on 
two  main  points ;  first,  the  recognition  as  a  permissible 
theological  postulate  of  the  trust  that  (as  the  teaching  in 
dispute  was  formulated  by  the  Andover  professors)  "Christ 
will  not  appear  as  the  Judge  to  men  to  whom  he  has  not 
first  offered  himself  as  a  Savior" — wherever,  however, 
whenever,  in  this  life  or  the  next,  that  may  be.  Secondly, 
that  the  Congregational  Councils,  and  not  the  Congrega- 
tional Missionary  Societies,  are  the  proper  bodies  to  deter- 
mine ministerial  standing.  The  first  question  was  practi- 
cally determined  at  the  meeting  of  the  American  Board  in 
Springfield,  when  its  official  administration  was  reorganized; 
the  other  point  was  determined  by  the  action  of  a  succession 
of  local  Councils,  and  by  a  resolution  to  that  effect  adopted 
by  a  large  majority  at  the  meeting  of  the  National  Council 
in  Minneapolis  in  October,  1892.  That  the  end  of  a 
controversy,  which  at  times  was  so  zealously  urged,  was 
ended  in  so  much  good  will  and  with  so  few  dissevered  friend- 
ships, is  due  above  all  else  to  the  self-forgetful  and  serene 
spirit  of  the  man  who,  more  than  any  other,  suffered  indig- 


APPRECIATIONS  371 

nity  and  reproach,  but  from  whose  hps  not  even  most  inti- 
mate friends  ever  heard  words  of  personal  bitterness,  whom 
his  pupils  at  Andover,  while  the  controversy  raged  around 
him,  used  to  speak  of  as  their  St.  John — Professor  Egbert 
C.  Smyth. 

The  "larger  views"  remain;  the  Congregational  ministry 
have  gained  their  full  measure  of  the  "Freedom  of  Faith." 
The  labors  and  sacrifices  of  others  have  won  full  Hberty  of 
investigation  and  thought  in  our  pulpits  for  the  ministry  of 
today :  the  question  remaining  is,  How  shall  this  liberty  of 
the  Spirit  be  used.f^  For  the  end  which  through  all  this 
history  the  representatives  of  the  progressive  movement  in 
the  rehgious  thought  and  life  of  the  Congregational 
churches  have  had  at  heart,  is  not  a  creedless  church,  or  a 
Christless  gospel,  or  an  isolated  and  barren  individualism ; 
but  rather  fellowship  with  the  mind  of  the  Christ  as  that 
shall  be  shown  by  the  Spirit  to  the  Church  from  age  to  age. 
To  think,  to  live,  to  serve  in  the  ever  present  revealing  and 
coming  of  the  Christ  from  God  to  show  to  us  the  Father — 
nothing  less  than  this  can  be  the  justification  and  the  end 
of  the  movement  of  liberal  theology. 

To  make  this  faith  real  and  living  was  preeminently  the 
part  and  the  service  which  Dr.  Hunger's  personal  influence 
and  writings  rendered  to  the  New  Theology  in  those 
controversial  days  which  are  now  happily  passed. 

As  to  Monger's  permanent  influence  on  New  Eng- 
land theology  we  may  take  the  estimate  of  a  younger 


372    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

writer,  the  son  of  Dr.  George  L.  Walker,  whose 
speech  at  the  Springfield  meeting  in  1887  had  con- 
stituted one  of  the  dramatic  features  of  the  struggle. 
Under  cover  of  Dr.  Walker's  name  the  denomination- 
alists  had  years  before  introduced  the  Vermont  Reso- 
lution which  practically  invited  their  liberal  colleagues 
to  depart  from  the  Congregational  fold.  But  at 
Springfield  Dr.  Walker  liimself  disavowed  the  "con- 
certed effort  to  screw  up  the  orthodoxy  of  the 
churches."  In  Hunger's  later  years  this  son  had 
come  to  New  Haven  as  successor  to  Prof.  George  P. 
Fisher  in  the  chair  of  Ecclesiastical  History.  It  is 
to  Professor  Walker  that  we  owe  the  most  judicious 
of  the  estimates  of  this  influence,  written  on  occasion 
of  Dr.  Hunger's  death : 

So  completely  has  our  theological  outlook  altered  in  New 
England,  and  so  silently  has  the  change  been  effected  in 
recent  years,  that  it  requires  some  effort  of  memory  to  pic- 
ture the  situation  when  Dr.  Hunger  first  came  into  the  arena 
of  debate.  The  older  New  England  theology,  of  the  later 
Edwardean  school,  championed  by  such  a  leader  as  Pro- 
fessor Park,  was  still  widely  dominant. 

It  was  not  wholly  so,  however,  for  the  work  of  such  men 
as  Dr.  Bushnell  had  been  too  thorough  not  to  have  shaken 
its  hold,  in  a  measure,  on  the  thinking  pubhc.  A  host  of 
new  forces  were  pressing  in.     The  evolutionary  theory  of 


APPRECIATIONS  373 

the  earth's  history,  the  Spencerian  philosophy,  the  rising 
tide  of  Biblical  criticism,  were  making  themselves  felt.  It 
seemed  to  many  that  the  foundations  of  rehgion  were  in 
danger  of  removal,  and  that  the  only  course  was  to  resist 
innovation.  Others,  fewer  in  number,  welcomed  and  tried 
to  appropriate  the  new.  Its  result  was  controversy  and 
di^'ision.  In  the  late  seventies  not  a  little  discussion  of  the 
finality  of  future  punishment  found  place  in  Congregational 
circles.  In  the  eighties  the  "Andover  controversy,"  begun 
over  a  possible  "probation"  in  the  future  world,  and  the 
debate  regarding  the  acceptance  of  candidates  for  mission- 
ary appointment  by  the  American  Board  who  were  tinged 
with  the  newer  views,  raged  and  threatened  denominational 
disruption.  To  the  conser\'ative  it  seemed  as  if  the  Chris- 
tian faith  was  in  peril  from  a  scarce  concealed  rationalism, 
to  the  liberals  it  appeared  that  there  was  equal  danger  from 
blindness  to  the  newer  scientific  and  historical  knowledge. 
Such  was  the  situation  when  Dr.  Munger  appeared  before 
the  public. 

Dr.  Hunger's  powers  had  ripened  slowly.  .  .  .  His  spirit- 
ual life  had  been  nourished  in  no  small  degree  by  Robertson, 
Maurice,  and  Bushnell.  He  had  thought  much  and  deeply, 
but  it  was  not  till  he  was  fifty- three  years  of  age  that  he 
made  his  first  great  contribution  to  New  England  discus- 
sions in  his  "Freedom  of  Faith"  of  1883. 

The  work  was  characteristic  of  the  service  which  he  was 
to  do  for  his  times.     Not  an  orator  in  the  rhetorical  sense. 


374,    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

not  a  leader  in  public  gatherings,  or  a  formulator  of  denomi- 
national policies,  he  brought  to  the  support  of  the  "New 
Theology,"  as  he  entitled  the  prefatory  essay  of  his  volume, 
the  charms  of  a  style  of  rare  literary  felicity  and  a  spirit 
of  deep  religious  earnestness.  Frankly  accepting  and 
defending  the  claims  of  that  newer  theology  to  "a  some- 
what larger  and  broader  use  of  the  reason,"  "to  interpret 
the  Scriptures  in  what  may  be  called  a  more  natural  way," 
"to  replace  an  excessive  individuality  by  a  truer  view  of  the 
solidarity  of  the  race,"  "to  recognize  a  new  relation  to 
natural  science,"  "a  wider  study  of  man,"  and  "a  restate- 
ment of  belief  in  Eschatology,"  he  stood  distinctly  in  intel- 
lectual sympathy  with  the  liberal  party  in  the  questions 
at  issue.  But  this  intellectual  conviction  was  not  his  great- 
est contribution.  That  was  rather  his  profound  spiritual 
earnestness.  He  felt  and  he  made  his  readers  feel,  that  the 
"new  theology"  was  a  progress  in  piety  no  less  than  in 
knowledge.  That  had  been  denied  and  disbelieved  by  its 
opponents.  It  is  no  disparagement  of  the  other  good  men 
who  were  leaders  in  the  freer  movement  to  say  that  no  other 
so  fully  showed  the  deep  religious  significance  of  the  newer 
thinking  as  did  Dr.  Hunger.  He  had  a  poet's  fire  and  a 
prophet's  vision.  He  could  not  have  been  a  dogmatic 
theologian,  but  he  showed,  as  few  could  have  done,  the 
"sweet  reasonableness"  of  his  faith. 

In  1885  New  Haven  became  his  home,  and  into  the  life 
of  the  city  he  built  himself  until  liis  death.     As  a  pastor, 


APPRECIATIONS  375 

he  helped  his  congregation  not  only  to  well-founded  con- 
viction, but  exhibited  unusual  skill  in  training  for  life.  His 
"On  the  Threshold,"  published  in  1881,  was  singularly  suc- 
cessful in  its  appeal  to  young  manhood  and  womanhood. 
He  won  affection  and  reverence.  Always  busy  with  his  pen, 
he  followed  his  "Freedom  of  Faith"  by  a  similar  interpreta- 
tion of  the  newer  theology,  "The  Appeal  to  Life,"  in  1887, 
and  by  a  biography  of  Dr.  Bushnell — a  most  congenial  task 
admirably  executed — in  1899.  As  an  essayist  he  wrote 
with  singular  felicity  many  discussions  of  considerable 
breadth  of  variety  of  theme,  some  of  which  were  gathered 
in  his  "Essays  for  the  Day"  of  1904. 

As  we  think  of  Dr.  Munger  it  must  be  with  the  reverence 
due  to  striking  purity  of  character,  earnestness  of  purpose 
and  spirituality  of  outlook.  It  was  natural  for  him  to  feel 
the  presence  of  God,  and  to  look  for  that  which  was  best  in 
his  fellowmen.  It  was  easy  for  him  to  perceive  the  reality 
of  the  eternal  and  invisible.  And,  because  it  was  so,  because 
of  the  depth  and  vitahty  of  his  own  faith,  he  did  a  great 
service  to  his  generation — a  service  that  was  all  the  greater 
because  he  could  show  in  his  own  person  that  an  ardent, 
confident  faith  was  an  accompaniment  of  broad  intellectual 
receptivity  to  that  which  was  new  in  religious  thinking. 

The  closing  chapter  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  presents 
in  dramatic  contrast  two  types  of  loyal  Christian  ser- 
vice. We  have  there,  set  in  companion  panels,  the 
"red  martyrdom"  of  St.  Peter  and  the  "white  martyr- 


376    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

dom"  of  St.  Jolin.  To  the  one  was  given  a  heroic 
"witness"  fitting  the  impetuous  character  of  the 
leader  of  the  Twelve.  He  was  to  glorify  God  in  the 
sufferings  of  his  life  and  in  the  death  of  ignominy  he 
should  die.  To  the  other,  no  less  constant,  no  less 
loyal,  was  given  an  abiding  "witness."  He  was  to 
tarry  long  with  the  flock,  guiding  and  teaching, 
perpetuating  the  Master's  spirit  by  dail}^  life,  by 
tongue,  and  by  pen.  Cherished  and  revered,  sur- 
rounded by  the  tender  devotion  of  a  great  brotherhood 
hanging  on  his  lips  as  of  one  who  had  "seen  the 
Lord,"  he  too  passed  into  the  presence  of  the  Master 
on  whose  bosom  his  head  had  been  pillowed.  As 
compared  with  the  others  the  path  of  the  beloved 
disciple  lay  in  green  pastures  and  beside  still  waters, 
and  passing  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death 
he  could  fear  no  evil,  for  the  Shepherd's  rod  and  staff 
were  with  him.  They  comforted  him.  Goodness  and 
mercy  followed  him  all  the  days  of  his  life  till  he 
dwelt  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  forever.  jNIunger's 
life  and  teaching  were  of  the  order  of  St.  John  more 
than  of  the  order  of  St.  Peter.  There  was  no  lack 
of  constancy  nor  valiancy.  He  could  and  did  take 
the  aggressive  when  occasion  required,  and  took  it 
with  vigor  and  effect,  an  apostle  of  love  with  flashings 
of  the  Son  of  Thunder.    But  he  will  be  remembered 


APPRECIATIONS  377 

as  the  interpreter  of  the  inner  life,  the  witness  of  the 
living,  eternal  Word,  the  preacher  to  his  own  genera- 
tion of  the  spiritual  Gospel,  the  "heart  of  Christ." 

On  Sunday,  January  15,  1911,  a  year  and  a  day 
from  the  funeral  services.  Dr.  Hunger's  congregation 
assembled  for  the  last  time  in  his  honor.  It  was  on 
occasion  of  the  unveiling  of  the  memorial  tablet  in 
the  church,  of  which  we  have  spoken.  At  this  service 
the  address  was  from  the  hand  of  his  friend  of  many 
years,  Dr.  George  A.  Gordon  of  Boston.  It  was  an 
appreciation  of  such  beauty  and  truth  that  we  give  it 
as  it  was  heard  by  the  congregation,  who  had  known 
and  loved  "the  seer." 

1  Samuel  ix.  18.  "Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  where  the  seer's 
house  is." 

We  have  here  a  relieving  and  beautiful  picture  set  in  the 
framework  of  that  troubled  old  Palestinian  time.  The  city 
with  the  seer  in  it  became  a  new  consolation  to  men ;  the 
house  of  the  seer  stood  there  as  the  centre  of  reverent  affec- 
tion and  confidence.  Thither  all  sorts  of  persons,  in  all 
kinds  of  difficult}^,  made  their  way.  The  mother  consumed 
with  anxiety  over  her  sick  child,  the  patriot  in  despair  over 
the  faction  and  woe  in  the  land,  the  old  in  their  love  for  an 
order  that  seemed  to  be  doomed,  the  young  with  their  visions 
of  the  new  and  better  day,  those  who  were  baffled  in  the 
trivial  quest  for  lost  asses  and  those  who  were  in  quest  of 


378    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

the  eternal,  one  and  all  repaired  to  the  house  of  the  seer. 
From  him  wisdom  played  in  upon  the  mysteries  of  life,  small 
and  great,  as  the  light  played  upon  the  cloud ;  from  him  as 
from  the  sun  there  went  forth  a  radiant  and  transfiguring 
spirit.  In  his  house,  in  his  friendship,  in  his  neighborhood, 
life  and  its  cares,  petty  and  vast,  became  easier  to  bear  and 
a  great  peace  took  possession  of  its  heart. 

We  can  picture  that  house,  standing  foursquare  perhaps 
upon  the  hillside,  with  wide  ranging  outlooks,  touched  by 
the  outgoings  of  morning  and  evening,  with  its  flat  roof, 
where  the  seer  with  a  guest  or  two  would  welcome  in  the 
spring  of  the  day,  watch  the  fading  glow  of  the  sun  that 
had  gone  down  in  the  great  sea,  look  upon  the  coming  of 
the  familiar  constellations  and  the  gathering  again  upon  the 
infinite  field  of  night  of  the  stars,  in  all  their  solemn  Syrian 
splendor.  The  sense  of  beauty  and  mystery  would  dwell 
there ;  the  consciousness  of  the  infinite  meanings  in  nature's 
life  and  in  man's  would  be  ever  present ;  all  speech  would  be 
in  the  service  of  the  spirit ;  all  speculation  would  leave  unex- 
plored the  Eternal  fullness.  Reverence,  faith,  and  love 
would  live  there;  life  that  had  made  trial  of  just  ways  and 
a  great  trust  in  God  would  lend  authority  and  beauty  to 
that  home.  The  highest  thing  in  that  Palestinian  city  was 
the  house  of  the  seer;  the  highest  gift  in  the  soul  of  the  seer 
was  his  sense  of  the  Eternal  in  man's  life,  in  man's  history. 

To  all  this  we  who  are  here  are  thinking  of  a  wonderful 
parallel.      Wliile    Theodore    Thornton    Munger    lived    all 


APPRECIATIONS  379 

serious  persons  knew  that  there  was  in  this  city  a  seer;  his 
house  upon  the  hillside  was  the  house  of  the  seer.  It  had  a 
wide  and  lovely  outlook  upon  nature  in  all  her  moods ;  it  had 
a  wider  outlook  upon  the  ways  of  men;  its  widest  outlook 
was  upon  God,  his  presence  and  purpose  in  the  universe.  It 
thus  became  a  centre  of  love  and  refreshment  for  a  great 
variety  of  persons.  Young  men  loved  to  climb  to  its  privi- 
leges ;  artists  and  men  of  letters  came  to  its  sense  of  beauty ; 
scholars  sought  its  atmosphere  of  high  seriousness  and 
admiration  for  learning ;  thinkers  came  to  its  study  grateful 
for  its  responsive  insight ;  men  of  science  turned  aside  to  its 
door  to  enjoy  its  intellectual  hospitality;  the  weary  and 
heavy  laden  came  for  its  peace.  One  of  the  far-shining 
marks  in  this  city  was  the  house  of  your  seer ;  and  in  that 
house  the  greatest  gifts  were  insight  into  life,  sympathy, 
compassion,  benignity,  and  unweariable  regard  for  all  high 
things. 

For  freedom  of  thought,  wide  ranging  intellectual  inter- 
ests, rich  exchanges  of  the  best  in  books  and  in  living  minds ; 
for  luminous  epigrams,  tender  reminiscence,  vivid  presenta- 
tion of  great  personalities  of  a  former  generation,  scorn  of 
the  metes  and  bounds  of  traditional  orthodoxy,  sympathy 
with  character  in  all  its  noble  manifestations,  above  all  for 
the  forward  look,  the  sense  of  God  moving  in  the  courses  of 
human  history,  and  unlimited  hope,  a  day  in  the  house  of 
this  seer,  compared  with  those  spent  under  the  roof  of  the 
mere  intellectual  mechanic,  was  better  than  a  thousand. 


380    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

This  is  not  the  place  nor  is  there  time  for  an  account  of 
the  outward  life  of  Dr.  Theodore  Munger.  We  note  that 
he  was  a  physician's  son  and  that  he  was  bred  in  respect 
for  science;  we  observe  that  he  was  the  son  of  an  educated 
man  and  that  thirty-seven  years  later  he  graduated  from 
his  father's  college.  We  do  not  pass  lightly  over  the  fact 
of  the  combination  in  him  of  the  French  Huguenot  and  the 
English  Saxon  derived  from  his  mother;  reminding  us  that 
he  was  a  composite  prophet  to  a  composite  nation.  We  see 
him  taking  his  first  look  at  the  mystery  of  nature  and  man 
in  Bainbridge  on  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna ;  we  follow 
him  to  Homer,  N.  Y.,  and  to  Hudson,  Ohio,  as  he  learns  the 
use  of  his  mind  under  good  masters ;  we  watch  his  advent 
in  Yale  with  the  best  of  blood  flowing  in  his  veins  and  with 
an  inheritance  of  power  concealed  in  his  slight  figure  dra\vn 
from  the  noble  stock  from  which  he  was  descended.  His 
course  at  Yale  both  in  College  and  in  the  Divinity  School 
was  directed  upon  reality.  He  cared  not  then  nor  at  any 
time  for  show.  The  power  of  learning  and  insight  and  not 
their  pomp  drew  forth  his  enduring  love  and  devotion. 
Ordination  to  the  ministry  in  1856  in  the  Village  Church, 
Dorchester;  service  in  various  churches  near  Boston,  when 
such  service  was  hard  for  a  man  of  Dr.  Munger's  range  of 
vision  and  critical  opinion  of  traditional  orthodoxy ;  a  fortu- 
nate visit  to  California  in  1875,  a  brief  pastorate  at  East 
Hartford,  followed  by  eight  great  years  at  North  Adams 
with  Greylock  in  his   study  window  to   remind  him  of  the 


APPRECIATIONS  381 

consolations  of  the  Eternal;  marriage  and  children  and  the 
settlement  over  the  United  Church  in  New  Haven;  a  great 
sorrow,  and  again  life  renewed  and  blessed  in  rarest  com- 
panionship ;  the  years  of  rich  labor,  increasing  authorship 
and  extending  influence;  honors,  academic  and  popular — 
the  former  from  Illinois  College  in  1883,  from  Harvard  in 
1904,  from  Yale  in  1908;  the  latter  from  men  all  over  the 
land;  the  limit  reached;  the  years  of  contented  and  happy 
movement  toward  the  "goal  of  all  mortal" ;  the  deepening 
love  and  the  growing  tenderness ;  the  unfailing  refreshment 
from  nature's  beauty;  the  noble  reahzation  of  his  great 
capacity  for  friendship ;  the  rest  in  the  sure  devoted  love 
of  his  home,  the  last  day  with  its  walk  among  familiar 
scenes ;  the  sunset  and  the  freedom  in  death — such  are  the 
hieroglyphics  that  hold  within  their  brief  and  curious  forms 
the  history  of  a  great  life.  As  Holmes  sang  of  Webster,  so 
we  sing  of  him: 

"  When  life  hath  run  its  largest  round 
Of  toil  and  triumph,  joy  and  woe, 
How  brief  a  storied  page  is  found 
To  compass  all  its  outward  show. 

"  A  roof  beneath  the  mountain  pines ; 

The  cloisters  of  a  hill-girt  plain; 

The  front  of  life's  embattled  lines ; 

A  mound  beside  the  heaving  main. 


882    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

"  These  are  the  scenes :  a  boy  appears ; 
Set  life's  round  dial  in  the  sun, 
Count  the  swift  arc  of  seventy  years — 
His  frame  is  dust;  his  task  is  done." 

We  come  to  the  highest  in  human  character  as  we  reach 
the  loftiest  summit  in  a  range  of  mountains.  The  natural 
movement  is  from  the  ordinary  levels  of  existence  to  the 
extraordinary;  in  the  ascent  we  observe  a  gradation  of 
excellence;  we  note  on  the  way  minor  forms  of  loveliness 
while  we  climb  to  the  chief  and  far-shining  distinction.  In 
this  manner  we  are  to  consider  our  friend  and  teacher.  We 
are  on  the  way  to  what  was  highest  in  him,  to  what  was  his 
supreme  service  to  his  generation ;  still  the  advance  is  among 
minor  distinctions  that  we  love  to  observe  and  lay  to  heart. 

We  note  first  of  all  Dr.  Hunger's  relation  to  his  intel- 
lectual environment.  In  the  main  that  environment  was 
theological.  It  was  not  wholly  so,  since  science  wrought 
many  of  her  mar\'els  in  Dr.  Munger's  earlier  years,  and  he 
was  ever  an  open-minded  and  expectant  learner  in  the  school 
of  science.  Then,  too.  Dr.  Munger  was  instinctively  a 
humanist.  Literature  in  form  and  still  more  in  substance 
was  one  of  his  delights.  He  felt  that  underneath  great  lit- 
erature is  the  life  of  a  great  people,  and  that  the  man  of 
genius  sings  his  song,  writes  his  epic  and  constructs  his 
drama  with  his  eyes  upon  life  at  its  greatest.  There  was 
music;  there  were  the  sister  arts  that  spoke  to  his  soul. 
There  was  the  sense  of  kindred,  the  richness  and  tenderness 


APPRECIATIONS  383 

of  home,  the  struggle  and  victory  of  his  nation,  history  and 
the  mystery  of  man's  life  in  the  earth.  All  these  were  of 
his  environment,  and  toward  all  these  segments  of  the  great 
circle  in  which  he  lived  he  was  reverent  and  profoundly 
receptive. 

It  was,  however,  the  theological  aspect  of  this  total 
environment  that  concerned  him  most.  That  environment 
was  constituted  by  the  ideas  of  the  New  England  divinity. 
They  were  everywhere — the  sovereignty  of  God,  election, 
depravity,  atonement,  regeneration,  eternal  life  and  eternal 
death.  They  created  an  atmosphere  which  surrounded  the 
total  rehgious  hfe  of  his  earher  years.  That  atmosphere 
he  breathed  in  his  father's  home,  in  College  and  in  the 
Seminary,  in  all  his  intercourse  with  religious  men  in  his 
profession  and  beyond  it.  Dr.  Taylor  and  Dr.  Park  had 
given  the  final  form  to  the  philosophy  of  Christian  faith. 
That  was  the  generally  accepted  position.  It  was  settled 
that  where  they  failed  the  fault  was  not  in  them  but  in  the 
mysterious  order  of  the  world.  So  many  impenetrable 
mysteries  there  must  be;  where  light  could  come  light  had 
come.  The  attitude  of  the  docile  disciple  was  the  only  rea- 
sonable attitude;  revolt  was  a  sign  of  eccentricity,  perhaps 
also  of  a  religious  experience  wanting  in  depth  .and  humility, 
and  likely  enough  the  prophecy  of  an  existence  running  to 
waste  and  ending  in  doom. 

Nevertheless,  Dr.  Hunger,  like  his  great  predecessor,  Dr. 
Bushnell,  stood  out  in  revolt.  Dr.  Bushnell  had  found  in 
the  reigning  theology  formal  excellence  with  material  pov- 


S84    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

erty.  He  grew  sick  at  heart  over  the  "logicers"  as  he 
called  them.  Bushnell's  merit  lay  in  material  richness 
expressed  in  the  form  of  good  literature.  In  the  formal 
presentation  of  his  ideas  Bushnell  ranks  below  the  greatest 
masters  of  the  New  England  divinity.  In  his  essay,  "The 
Gospel,  a  Gift  to  the  Imagination,"  he  engages  Professor 
Park  in  controversy,  as  Park  expressed  himself  in  his  dis- 
course, "The  Theology  of  the  Intellect  and  the  Theology  of  the 
Feelings."  Bushnell's  question  was,  Is  a  science  of  theology 
possible.''  He  answers  in  the  negative  because  he  contends 
that  spiritual  truth  is  given  in  material  images.  Spiritual 
truth  can  be  seen  but  it  cannot  be  stated  in  an  order  of 
propositions.  Professor  Park's  answer  by  anticipation  is  that 
we  do  not  mean  by  the  science  of  religion  the  presentation 
of  non-sensuous  ideas ;  that  for  beings  like  ourselves  is  mani- 
festly an  impossibihty.  We  mean  by  theological  science  the 
selection  and  presentation  of  general  ideas.  Science  is  the 
beholding  of  the  universal  in  the  particular,  the  eternal  in 
the  temporal.  We  may  add  as  illustrations  Newton's  apple 
and  the  falling  sparrow  that  Jesus  notes.  There  is  one 
apple,  but  it  gives  a  universal  law ;  there  is  one  sparrow,  but 
it  gives  the  universal  care  of  God.  The  apple  and  the 
sparrow  appeal  to  sense ;  but  through  this  appeal  the  intel- 
lect apprehends  what  is  non-sensuous  and  of  universal 
moment. 

Bushnell  is  here  clearly  inferior  to  the  old  masters  of  the 
New  England  divinity.  At  this  point  he  has  been  an  obstacle 
in  the  way  of  theological  science.     He  identified  the  science 


APPRECIATIONS  385 

of  theology  and  the  non-sensuous ;  he  thought  that  all 
presentation  of  spiritual  ideas  must  be,  in  the  nature  of  the 
case,  poetry.  He  did  not  see  that  poetry  creates  images 
for  particular  cases  with  a  universal  suggestiveness,  while 
science  presents  through  its  symbol  the  universal  idea  torn 
from  the  heart  of  particulars.  Inferior  then  in  formal 
excellence  to  the  greatest  of  his  predecessors  and  contem- 
poraries of  the  old  divinity,  Bushnell  as  a  thinker  is  vastly 
superior  in  content,  in  meaning,  in  the  substance  of  his 
message. 

Here  we  return  to  Dr.  Hunger.  He  never  quite  appre- 
ciated his  debt  to  the  New  England  divines.  Their  material 
inadequacy  dimmed  his  vision  to  their  formal  excellence. 
They  taught  him  to  think;  they  made  him  aware  of  what 
thoroughness  in  discussion  meant;  they  bred  in  his  intellect 
a  high  standard  of  work;  they  took  him  over  into  the  con- 
sciousness of  what  constituted  the  profound  treatment  of 
rehgious  issues.  He  knew  the  New  England  theology  from 
centre  to  circumference ;  he  unconsciously  absorbed  many  of 
its  excellences ;  he  revolted  from  it  as  Bushnell  had  done 
because  of  its  material  poverty ;  he  went  forth  the  servant  of 
the  richer  and  deeper  rehgious  consciousness  in  the  power 
conferred  upon  him  by  the  masters  of  the  old  divinity.  In  Dr. 
Hunger  we  meet  a  conspicuous  combination  of  the  richer  reh- 
gious consciousness  and  the  forms  of  good  hterature  in  the 
service  of  Christian  ideas. 

As  a  preacher  Dr.  Hunger  had  two  rare  distinctions.  He 
had  a  message  conceived  in  an  original  and  in  a  profound 


386    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

way;  and  he  had  style.  When  his  "Freedom  of  Faith" 
was  pubhshed  in  1883  his  fame  as  a  preacher  became 
national  and  indeed  international.  He  was  not  a  master 
of  assemblies ;  he  possessed  none  of  the  gifts  of  the  orator 
and  he  rated  them  low.  Although  for  many  years  in  great 
demand  he  could  not  be  described  as  a  popular  preacher,  a 
being  for  whom  he  had  a  profound  and  just  pity.  He  was 
seldom  an  effective  speaker  without  his  notes;  he  did  not 
possess  the  voice,  the  rapidity,  the  physical  vitality  and 
nervous  force  essential  to  the  orator. 

If  we  divide  preachers  of  the  first  rank  into  two  orders,  if 
we  distinguish  among  these  preachers  according  as  the 
emphasis  is  laid  on  the  message  or  on  the  personahty,  if  we 
put  the  masters  of  assemblies  like  Beecher  and  Brooks  in 
one  order  and  the  masters  of  thought  like  Bushnell  and 
Robertson  in  the  other,  we  shall  see  at  once  with  whom  Dr. 
Hunger  should  be  classed.  He  did  not  rely  chiefly  upon 
personality ;  he  did  not  construct  a  sermon  upon  the  prin- 
ciple of  intellectual  self-sacrifice  as  the  Beecher  and  Brooks 
type  of  preacher  does,  choosing  so  much  ideal  substance  as 
his  personality  can  float  into  the  mind  of  the  average  earnest 
hearer.  Dr.  Hunger  was  a  master  of  thought ;  he  put  the 
emphasis  upon  his  message;  he  sought  to  do  justice  to  the 
ideal  strength  that  possessed  him  and  he  had  a  noble  confi- 
dence in  its  power  to  make  its  way  to  the  mind  and  heart. 
His  sermons  were  thus  bom  of  original  vision;  they  were 
free,  ample,  often  splendid  utterances  of  his  own  prophetic 
intellect.      They    were   not    adaptations    of    a    truth    partly 


APPRECIATIONS  387 

liberated  and  partly  suppressed  to  less  gifted  minds.  These 
sermons  constituted  a  kind  of  Milky  Way  through  the  wild 
unmeasured  regions  of  the  spirit ;  they  were  an  illumination 
and  a  delight;  they  had  about  them,  too,  an  undefined 
beauty,  and  the  touch  of  mystery;  they  never  failed  to  set 
the  sympathetic  hearer  in  the  consciousness  of  the  Infinite; 
they  brought  to  him  in  his  petty  and  troubled  earthly  task 
the  grace  and  peace  of  the  Eternal. 

While  these  discourses  abounded  in  wise  remark,  and  in 
the  presentation  of  the  just  and  tender  aspects  of  Christian 
truth,  their  chief  excellence  as  a  force  upon  character  was 
in  the  unfailing  sense  of  elevation  which  they  imparted.  Sin, 
meanness,  moral  irresolution,  infidelity  of  every  kind  and 
name,  unworthy  thoughts  of  man's  life  and  God's  universe 
were  relegated  by  a  characteristic  sermon  from  Dr.  Hun- 
ger to  the  underworld.  The  receptive  hearer  was  liberated, 
he  hardly  knew  how;  he  found  himself  walking  in  the  spirit, 
in  the  freedom  of  a  son  of  God.  As  Jesus  triumphed  in  his 
temptation  through  his  supreme  sense  of  Sonhood  to  his 
Father,  as  nothing  could  drag  him  from  that  divine  height, 
so  the  whole  tendency  of  Dr.  Munger's  preaching  was  to 
fortify  men  in  the  filial  relation  to  God,  and  in  the  ideal 
strength  that  flows  from  it. 

The  style  of  these  discourses  has  been  universally  admired. 
It  was  wholly  simple  and  true;  the  preacher  wrote  with  his 
eye  on  reality;  the  grace  of  the  Christian  Gospel  went  into 
his  words  as  its  ideas  went  into  his  mind.  He  was  of  course 
familiar   with    great  literature ;   he    loved    Shakespere    and 


388    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

Milton,  John  Bunyan  and  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  Francis 
Bacon  and  Edmund  Burke,  and  above  all  the  English  Bible. 
He  was  almost  abnormally  afraid  of  magnificence  and 
splendor  in  speech ;  and  no  preacher  was  ever  more  free  from 
the  vices  of  expression  that  so  often  go  with  preaching. 
Bombast,  exaggeration,  the  flamboyant  manner,  the  garish 
word,  the  style  that  is  a  veritable  Joseph's  coat  of  many 
colors,  with  the  colors  faded  and  running  the  one  into  the 
other,  were  absolutely  foreign  to  the  manner  of  Dr.  ]Mun- 
ger.  He  was  a  Christian  gentleman ;  he  loved  one  thing 
supremely,  and  that  was  the  simple  truth;  nothing  seemed 
to  him  noble  or  beautiful  in  speech  that  in  any  way  dimmed 
the  majestic  outlines  of  reaKty.  Hence  the  great  merits 
of  his  style  were  fidelity,  sincerity,  simplicity,  felicity,  the 
grace  and  charm  of  the  truth  that  he  loved  and  that  he  did 
his  best  to  utter.  No  preacher  of  his  generation  came  nearer 
than  he  to  the  ideal  of  a  good  style,  to  be  not  seen  but  seen 
through  like  the  window.  He  never  forgot  the  humorous 
anecdote  told  him  by  a  friend  of  the  great  Scottish  scholar 
and  teacher,  Prof.  A.  B.  Davidson.  To  a  former  student  who 
besought  him  to  preach  in  his  pulpit  the  Professor  declined, 
giving  as  a  reason  that  he  had  destroyed  all  his  sermons 
on  the  ground  that  preaching  is  a  bad  habit  and  it  grows 
upon  a  man  as  he  gets  older. 

Dr.  Munger's  style  made  him  a  signal  force  as  a  writer. 
He  spoke  to  the  soul  of  men  of  letters  more  than  any 
preacher  of  his  day.  The  leading  serious  magazines  were 
open  to  his  contributions.     His  various  papers  and  essays 


APPRECIATIONS  389 

when  thus  published  carried  the  influence  of  the  Christian 
Gospel  into  a  region  usually  inaccessible  to  the  preacher. 
Out  of  this  influence  grew  many  of  the  richest  friendships 
of  his  life.  Here  was  a  man  of  letters,  a  lover  of  beauty, 
an  apostle  of  light  and  grace  in  a  Christian  pulpit ;  some- 
thing good  could  still  come  out  of  Nazareth.  So  the  sur- 
prise ran  and  wrought  its  greatest  work  of  mediation 
between  men  who  should  always  be  of  one  brotherhood,  the 
apostles  of  beauty  and  the  preachers  of  the  incarnation  of 
the  Eternal  loveliness. 

Dr.  Munger  was  a  just  and  wise  man.  He  was  enthusias- 
tic and  yet  sober  in  his  judgments.  For  this  reason  he  was 
a  good  citizen  and  a  good  counsellor.  His  great  claims  to 
distinction  must  not  be  allowed  to  obscure  this  excellence. 
In  every  community  in  which  he  lived  he  was  known  as  wise 
and  strong ;  his  mind  upon  all  social  questions  was  clear  and 
sound.  In  the  service  of  the  ideal  he  knew  the  possible  from 
the  impossible;  he  saw  what  could  be  done  clearly  marked 
off  from  what  could  not  be  done.  He  thus  made  friends  for 
all  the  causes  that  he  carried  upon  his  heart.  He  drew  men 
to  increased  insight  and  admiration  for  his  Alma  Mater ;  he 
greatened  the  public  sense  of  the  historic  power  and  pro- 
phetic future  of  his  Divinity  School;  he  created  confidence 
in  his  views  of  society,  evolution  and  freedom  in  faith.  His 
character  grew  out  of  his  causes  and  as  men  come  to  love  and 
trust  that  character  they  come  to  love  and  trust  these  causes. 
He  was  the  wisest,  gentlest,  most  winning,   and  in  many 


390    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

respects  the  most  availing  of  the  rehgious  leaders  of  his 
generation. 

Look  again  at  the  source  of  this  power.  He  has  written 
more  truly  of  pity  than  any  of  our  preachers.  His  deepest 
mood  toward  this  tangled  and  tragic  world  was  compassion. 
He  had  the  patience  of  a  great  pity  toward  men  whose  views 
of  truth  he  conceived  to  be  profoundly  erroneous,  and  whose 
character  he  felt  to  be  far  from  admirable.  Therefore,  when 
the  ^^sion  broke  upon  his  soul  it  did  not  clothe  itself  in 
burning  words ;  it  did  not  assume  forms  that  would  inevit- 
ably give  pain  to  the  adversary ;  it  became  a  pure,  mild 
splendor,  and  went  forth  as  a  friend  to  those  whom  it 
sought  to  deliver.  Hot  words  he  could  speak ;  sharp  arrows 
he  could  shoot ;  but  his  habit  was  sometliing  far  different. 
He  was  full  of  compassion,  slow  to  anger  in  the  conflict  of 
thought,  of  great  patience  and  of  great  and  precious  power. 

If  now  we  ask  what  it  was  that  constituted  the  central 
merit  of  this  servant  of  righteousness  we  shall  not  have  to 
go  far  for  an  answer.  In  the  sphere  of  the  spirit  there 
are  two  services  possible  for  every  prophet.  The  first  is 
the  creation  of  religious  life ;  the  second  is  the  teaching  of 
worthier  ideas  of  that  Hfe,  and  of  the  ultimate  author  and 
object  of  it,  God.  There  are  men  who  inspire  religious  feel- 
ing; and  the  feeling  which  they  inspire  is  of  widely  varying 
types  from  that  of  Luther  to  Loyola,  from  the  type  inspired 
by  Newman  at  his  best  to  the  type  reproduced  by  the  camp- 
meeting  orator.  Religious  feeling  has  a  vast  range,  its 
worth  is  of  widely  diff^erent  degrees ;  and  the  inspirer  of  it 


APPRECIATIONS  391 

at  its  best  does  indeed  a  great  but  partial  service  to  the 
human  spirit.  The  creation  of  religious  feeling  and  living 
apart  from  any  improvement  in  religious  thought  is  a  one- 
sided service.  Here  we  have  discovered  the  defect  of  Augus- 
tine, Luther,  and  Edwards.  They  have  inspired  the  religious 
spirit;  they  continue  to  inspire  it,  and  for  this  service  we 
shall  hold  them  in  everlasting  honor.  They  did  not  teach 
their  generation  and  they  have  not  taught  succeeding  gen- 
erations to  think  of  God  and  man's  world  in  God  in  worthier 
ways.  Their  failure  is  as  great  as  their  triumph,  and  they 
stand  for  a  multitude  of  servants  of  the  soul  that  no  man 
can  number,  whom  we  revere,  but  whose  ideas  we  must  often 
modify  or  even  set  aside. 

There  are  men  who  inspire  no  religious  feeling  but  who 
teach  fairly  acceptable  religious  ideas.  They  have  their 
place  and  function  in  the  kingdom  of  God;  but  the  place 
and  function  are  not  eminent.  Such  centres  of  light  with- 
out heat,  of  ideas  without  great  character,  of  the  categories 
of  the  religious  life  with  no  Hfe  in  them,  appear  not  infre- 
quently like  the  shell  found  by  the  sea,  beautiful  in  design 
and  color  but  with  the  living  creature  gone;  wonderful  they 
are  as  devices  that  present  to  the  ear  the  roar  and  tumult  of 
the  Eternal;  but  with  them  the  Eternal  is  only  an  imagina- 
tion, a  reminiscence. 

The  distinction  of  Theodore  T.  Hunger  was  that  he  did 
at  one  and  the  same  time  both  these  services.  He  was  the 
habitual  inspirer  of  high  religious  feeling,  and  he  was  the 
wise  teacher  of  worthier  ideas  of  God  and  our  human  world 


392    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

in  God.     It  is  for  this  service  above  all  else  that  we  honor 
him. 

What  do  we  mean  by  progress  in  theology?  Surely  not 
mere  change.  Breadth  and  narrowness,  old  and  new,  are  not 
fundamental  terms.  Neither  is  accordance  with  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Bible  as  a  whole  a  final  test.  Men  are  all  at 
sea  here,  having  no  sure  vision  of  the  religious  reahty  and 
therefore  no  measure  of  progress.  The  kaleidoscope  turns 
and  at  each  turn  presents  a  new  picture,  but  who  can  say 
which  picture  is  the  best.'*  It  comes  back  to  individual 
preference;  there  is  no  test  of  beauty  but  feehng.  So  it 
seems  in  the  world  of  religious  ideas.  One  system  goes  and 
another  comes;  certain  views  are  in  fashion  today,  and 
tomorrow  another  fashion  of  thought  is  supreme.  In  all 
this  there  is  nothing  but  a  mere  welter  of  taste  and  prefer- 
ence. In  such  conditions  the  conserA'ative  clings  to  the  tradi- 
tional view,  the  radical  follows  his  passion  for  the  new, 
while  serious  men  ask  in  their  distress,  What  is  truth.'' 
Where  is  the  sure  test  of  progress  in  man's  thought  of  God's 
world.''  Is  there  any  dehverance  from  the  endless  swing  of 
the  pendulum  of  thought  between  the  old  and  the  new,  the 
conservative  and  the  radical.''  Is  man's  mind  among  his 
thoughts  like  the  log  in  the  whirlpool.''  Now  the  log  is  on 
that  segment,  again  on  this,  and  yet  again  it  is  moving 
toward  the  centre  and  once  more  it  is  shot  from  the  centre 
toward  the  circumference.  In  all  this  there  is  change,  end- 
less  troubled   change,   but   no   progress.      Such   a   picture 


APPRECIATIONS  393 

exhibits  not  unfairly  the  confusion  and  distress  in  which 
multitudes  of  serious  persons  are  living. 

To  them  the  announcement  should  come  like  the  republi- 
cation of  the  Gospel  that  the  test  of  all  truth  about  God 
and  man  is  Jesus'  vision  of  his  Father.  Christ's  vision  of 
the  perfect  Father  is  the  axiom  from  which  all  religious 
thought  begins,  to  which  it  remains  amenable  to  the  end. 
The  absolute  goodness  of  God,  the  eternal  moral  worth  of 
the  Father  of  mankind  is  the  final  test  of  truth  in  the  old 
and  in  the  new.  Nothing  can  be  admitted  as  true  which 
reflects  dishonor  upon  God;  all  philosophies  of  human  his- 
tory, of  religious  experience,  all  doctrines  of  sovereignty, 
depravity,  atonement,  and  regeneration  that  run  counter 
to  the  perfect  moral  integrity  of  God  must  be  modified, 
passed  through  the  fires  of  criticism  that  the  alloy  may  be 
taken  out  of  them;  and  failing  this  test  they  are  to  be 
thrown  to  the  dust  heap. 

Progress  in  theology  means  the  wider  and  deeper  presence 
of  God,  and  God's  world,  in  man's  thoughts,  as  God  and  his 
world  stood  in  the  mind  of  Christ ;  it  means  an  order  of  con- 
ceptions ascending  in  worth ;  a  system  of  ideas  wrought  out 
of  the  Christian  consciousness  of  the  Eternal  love.  Man's 
best  thought  of  God  is  inadequate;  his  thought  may  be, 
indeed  it  has  often  been,  an  outrage  upon  the  divine  charac- 
ter. The  source  of  theology  is  the  Christian  conscience 
enhghtened  from  the  Lord  Christ;  the  judge  of  theological 
progress  is  the  enlightened  Christian  conscience.  Worthier 
ideas  of  the  God  and  Father  of  Jesus,  of  the  kingdom  of 


394    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

God,  of  man's  being  and  destiny  have  a  perfect  right  to  be 
considered  an  advance  upon  ideas  less  worthy  and  at  war 
with  the  best  in  man.  For  the  best  in  man  is  the  voice  of 
God,  the  Holy  Ghost. 

In  the  service  of  the  great  ideas  of  religion  the  intellect 
waits  upon  the  heart.  It  is  the  heart  that  makes  the 
theologian.  He  who  would  teach  men  about  God  must  know 
him  in  Christ,  speak  to  him  in  his  own  soul,  live  with  him  in 
the  course  of  his  own  existence,  and  triumph  over  sin  and 
death  through  an  experience  of  God's  compassion  and  power. 
The  ideas  that  are  the  harvest  of  the  deepest,  purest,  most 
compassionate  heart,  are  the  worthiest  of  the  Perfect  Father 
of  men;  they  are  the  best  outline  in  theology.  If  God  is 
perfect,  the  best  instincts,  intuitions,  and  thoughts  of  the 
best  men  are  the  nearest  approach  to  the  truth;  and  the 
ever-greatening  consciousness  of  the  perfect  Father  of  the 
world  is  the  promise  of  perpetual  progress  in  man's  thoughts 
of  his  Maker.  This  great  provision  for  sure  progress  in 
religious  ideas  is  given  in  the  Apostles'  Creed  in  monumental 
words :  "I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost." 

This  discussion  I  conceive  to  be  essential  to  a  just  appre- 
ciation of  Dr.  Munger's  work  for  his  generation.  He  was  a 
deep-hearted  man ;  he  lived  in  the  spirit ;  religion  was  his 
life.  He  was  all  his  days  seeking  to  compass  more  and 
more  of  the  love  of  God  in  his  own  mortal  existence.  Many 
years  of  struggle,  pondering,  testing,  and  wise  living  were 
given  him.  He  revolted  from  the  teaching  of  his  first  great 
master.  Dr.  Taylor,  from  his  acute  and  powerful  contem- 


APPRECIATIONS  395 

porary,  Professor  Park,  and  from  the  New  England  theol- 
ogy as  a  whole  because  their  ideas  failed  to  do  justice  to 
his  consciousness  of  God.  He  sided  with  Bushnell,  opened 
his  spirit  to  Robertson,  turned  the  receptivities  of  his  intel- 
lect to  Maurice,  because  he  saw  that  these  thinkers  were 
doing  ampler  justice  to  Christ's  gospel,  to  his  own  Chris- 
tian conscience,  and  to  the  Infinite  pity.  He  began  the 
gracious  crusade  of  his  life  in  the  teaching  of  worthier  ideas 
of  man's  world  in  God;  and  this  crusade  he  continued  while 
strength  lasted.  Here  was  the  master  passion  of  his  heart. 
His  interest  in  good  literature  was  keen ;  his  sense  of  beauty 
never  failed  him ;  he  looked  with  sympathy  upon  the  increas- 
ing material  progress  of  men;  he  loved  to  preach  and  he 
loved  those  who  could  apply  the  truth  to  man's  heart,  but 
under  all,  like  the  ground-swell  after  the  storm,  was  the 
unceasing  movement  and  sigh  of  his  soul  after  worthier  ideas 
of  Christ's  gospel  and  man's  world  in  God. 

Here  was  his  supreme  service.  In  his  sermons  and  in  his 
books  he  set  forth  and  declared  worthier  conceptions  of  the 
life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man.  He  was  thus  a  creative  force 
in  the  construction  of  a  better  philosophy  of  religion.  His 
worthier  ideas  came  out  of  a  heart  pervaded  by  their  power ; 
thus  he  was,  as  I  have  said,  at  once  the  inspirer  of  a  greater 
religious  life  and  a  justifier  thereof  in  exalted  ideas.  On 
account  of  this  service  he  stands  in  the  great  line  of  the 
servants  of  the  Spirit  that  have  come  forth  from  Yale 
University  to  bless  the  world. 


396    THEODORE  THORNTON  HUNGER 

From  this  bare  outline  of  a  career  so  abundant  in  high 
service  we  return  to  the  man.  The  richest  expressions  of 
the  human  person  are  to  that  person  as  the  luxuriant  summer 
foliage  to  the  tree.  When  a  hundred  summers  have  come 
and  gone  the  great  tree  stands  unexhausted,  prophetic  of 
a  hundred  more.  The  unexhausted,  the  inexhaustible 
human  person  is  the  supreme  fact  and  wonder.  The  great- 
est service  here  on  earth  is  but  a  single  version,  one  season's 
expression  of  the  perennial  soul.  All  man's  works  are  poor 
when  set  in  contrast  with  man  himself.  The  creative  human 
person  is  the  everlasting  reality  in  the  kingdom  of  God. 

As  we  walk  ^vith  our  friend  down  the  final  years  we  see 
much  that  we  cannot  forget.  He  was  wise  in  resigning  his 
office  as  preacher  while  his  powers  were  unbroken.  He  with- 
drew from  public  duty,  with  a  touch  of  pathos  indeed,  but 
with  dignity  and  sweetness.  As  the  days  passed  he  became 
richer  in  heart  and  more  beautiful  in  spirit.  He  moved  in 
a  deep  and  constant  atmosphere  of  peace.  The  mystery  of 
life  was  always  with  liim,  but  it  was  a  mystery  of  light 
because  of  his  faith  in  the  compassionate  God  and  Father 
of  man.  Great  interests  never  forsook  him;  they  crowded 
upon  mind  and  heart;  and  while  he  could  no  longer  serve 
them  as  in  the  days  of  his  strength,  they  carried  him  in  the 
van  of  progress  where  for  so  many  years  he  had  fought  and 
led.  His  happiness  in  his  home  was  a  benediction  to  witness ; 
there  more  than  among  liis  most  devoted  friends  he  was 
revered,  served,  and  cherished. 


APPRECIATIONS  397 

Infirmity  increased,  but  it  could  not  quench  the  eager- 
ness of  his  mind  or  the  deep  and  tender  regard  of  his  heart. 
Again  and  again  when  he  was  in  faihng  health  I  have  been 
with  him  in  moments  when  the  clouds  lifted,  revealing  in 
grand  outhnes,  like  some  great  range  of  mountains,  the 
truth  that  he  possessed  but  could  no  longer  utter.  As  to 
the  deepening  regard  of  his  heart  I  cite  again  from  my  own 
experience.  Too  frail  to  endure  even  the  company  of  a 
friend  of  five  and  twenty  years'  standing  for  the  usual  visit, 
I  dined  with  him.  For  his  sake  I  left  early.  He  perceived 
at  once  the  unusualness  of  this  procedure.  He  accompanied 
me  to  the  door,  asking  with  an  unforgetable  expression  of 
anxiety  in  his  eyes,  and  with  utmost  and  tremulous  tender- 
ness :  There  is  no  change,  is  there  ?  He  stood  outside  his 
door,  followed  me  with  the  same  affectionate  gaze  till  I 
disappeared  in  the  solemn  beauty  of  the  star-lit  evening. 
That  was  my  last  vision  of  him  tiU  the  day  break  and  the 
shadows  flee  away. 

I  have  said  that  Dr.  Munger's  chief  distinction  was  that 
of  the  prophet.  He  was  indeed  a  seer.  He  was  forever  in 
the  watch-tower  sweeping  with  his  keen  and  wise  vision  the 
whole  field  of  human  interest.  His  house  had  windows  toward 
the  east  and  the  west;  he  took  deep  dehght  both  in  sunrise 
and  sunset.  He  had  profound  reverence  for  the  great  things 
of  the  past;  he  gratefully  confessed  the  unapproachable 
majesty  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  When  he  sat  in  his 
study  looking  westward  into  the  glory  of  evening,  he  seemed 
to  be  in  the  mood  of  joy  and  thankfulness  over  all  the  great 


398    THEODORE  THORNTON  MUNGER 

things  that  God  had  done  for  the  present  generation 
through  prophetic  men  of  old.  Nothing  could  be  more 
beautiful  than  his  deep  and  habitual  reverence  for  the  glory 
of  the  past. 

It  must  be  added  that  sunset  meant  more  for  him  than  the 
close  of  the  day ;  it  became  a  prophecy  in  utmost  splendor 
of  other  days  in  long  and  bright  succession.  It  was  this 
mood  of  his  spirit  that  made  the  end  ideal.  He  was  in  his 
accustomed  chair  looking  westward  into  the  sunset ;  while 
he  sat  there  the  same  reverence  possessed  him  toward  the 
monumental  things  of  the  past;  while  he  looked  backward 
he  also  looked  forward  and  beyond.  Thus  filled  with  rever- 
ence and  hope  the  change  came  and  he  went  his  quiet  and 
shining  way  into  the  eternal.  We  can  but  add:  "The  sun 
shall  be  no  more  thy  light  by  day;  neither  for  brightness 
shall  the  moon  give  light  unto  thee:  but  the  Lord  shall  be 
unto  thee  an  everlasting  light,  and  thy  God  thy  glory." 

The  End. 


INDEX 


INDEX 

"Abiding  Witness,  The"   376 

Abolitionists    103,  136 

Abstinence,  Total 194,  219 

Academy,    Cortland    24  sqq. 

Advice,  Father's    65,  93  sq.,  364 

Ahmednagar  (India)   Church 343 

Album  (Autographs  of  Yale  Class)    48  sqq. 

Alden,  Rev.  Dr.  E.  K 294  sq. 

AUen,  Prof.  A.  V.  G.,  Letter 270  sq.,  288 

American  Board    261,  294  sqq.,  369  sq. 

Ancestry     1  sqq. 

Andover  Seminary   72,  81,  236,  285 

Andover  Controversy 367,  373 

Annihilation  Doctrine    231,  267 

Anniversary  Week  in  Boston 102 

Apostolic  Succession    121 

"Appeal  to  Life,"  Book 286 

Approbation  to  Preach    74 

Arts  and  Letters,  Institute  of 340 

Association,  Mass.  General 236 

Athanasian    Creed    125 

Bacon,  Rev.  Dr.  Leonard 57,  75,  196,  260,  263,  282 

Baldwin,  Gov.  Simeon  E 279 

Bainbridge,  N.  Y 7  sqq. 

Baker,  Mrs.  Walter    105  sqq.,  128,  142,  268,  301 

Baker,  Mrs.  Walter,  Letters  to 132,  280,  281 

Beecher,  Dr.  H.  W 67,  102,  123 

Blackington     236 

Book-buying    102 

Bradford  Academy,  Address 236 


402  INDEX 

Bradford,  Rev.  Dr.  A.  H 261 

Bradford,  Simeon 19 

Brewer,   Cyrus    84 

Broad-church  Movement 120 

Brown,  John 1 04 

Bushnell,  Horace   

56  sq.,  67,  76  sq.,  114  sqq.,  141,  159  sq.,  167,  345,  384 

Bushnell,  Horace,  Book 303  sqq. 

Bushnell,  Horace,  Death  of 207 

Bushnell,  Horace,  Essay 333  sqq. 

Bushnell,  Horace,  Sermon 207  sqq. 

California    201  sqq. 

Candle-light  Meetings   20,  328 

Carpenter,  F.  B 21,  120,  126,  302 

Carpenter,  F.  B.,  Letter  to 125  sq. 

Carrier,  Rev.  A.  H 47 

Catholicity     125,  185  sq.,  190,  366 

Character  of  Dr.  Munger 382  sqq. 

Church   Symmetry    277  sq. 

Civic   Ministry    240 

"Cloud-land"     206 

Committee  on  Liquor-problem 309 

Congregational  Polity 87  sqq.,  124,  225,  263  sq. 

Continuity  of  Doctrine 256 

Council  at  North  Adams 228  sq. 

Council  at  New  Haven 277,  365 

Council,  National  Congregational,  of  Boston  ....  161  sq.,  186  sq. 

Council,  National  Congregational,  of  Oberlin 195 

Covenants  of  Churches    188  sq. 

Creed  (Athanasian)    125 

Creed,  Local,  Denominational,  Catholic 162  sqq. 

Creed,  As  Test  or  Testimony 164,  301 

Creed,  of  Burial  Hill 165,  184  sq. 

Creed,  of  1883   295,  802 


INDEX  403 

Creeds,  Growth  of 1 82  sq. 

Dante     336 

Deane,  Prof.  J.  P 319,  361 

Death  of  Dr.  Hunger 352,  398 

Debates    37,  43  sq. 

Declaration  of  Oberlin   195 

Declarations  vs.  Creeds 165,  189 

Degree,  Harvard    339 

Degree,   Illinois    272 

Degree,  Yale  . 350 

Democracy  in  the  Church 87  sqq. 

Denominationalism    193  sq.,  223,  263  sq. 

DeQuincey,  Critique 45  sq. 

Des  Moines,  Iowa,  Meeting  of  A.  B.  C.  F.  M 296  sqq. 

Diman,  J.  L 175 

Diary    96,  204 

Dodge,  Miss  M.  E 151 

Dorchester,  Mass 72,  83  sqq.,  96  sqq.,  129 

Duncan,  Hon.  J.  H 136  sq.,  170 

Duncan,  Elizabeth  K.  (Mrs.  Hunger)    136,  292 

East  Hartford    216 

Eliot  Church,  Lawrence,  Mass 177  sq. 

Eliot,  John    1  sq.,  178 

Eliot,  Joseph    3 

Episcopacy 120  sq.,  133 

"Essays  for  the  Day,"  Book 329  sq. 

Europe,  First  Visit 152  sqq. 

Europe,  Second  Visit 238 

Evangelism.     See  Revivalism. 

"Experience,  Witness  from,"  Sermon 289 

Fast  Day  Sermons 135 

Fisher,  Prof.  George  P 40,  61,  252,  297 

"Freedom  of  Faith,"  Book 253  sqq.,  371 

Fugitive  Slave  Bill   43,  104 


404  INDEX 

Funeral  Fees 99 

Funeral  of  Dr.  Munger 354 

Gladden,  Rev.  Dr.  W 217,  235,  261 

Gilder,  R.  W.,  Letter 269 

Gordon,  Rev.  Dr.  George  A 320  sq.,  345 

Gordon,  Rev.  Dr.  George  A.,  Memorial  Address  of  ....  377  sqq. 

Grotius     345 

Haddam,  Conn 4  sqq.,  303 

Haines,   Miss    112 

Hamilton,  Gail.     See  Dodge,  Miss  M.  E. 

Harris,  Robert    201 

Harris,  Prof.  Samuel 252,  297 

Hartford,  Conn 215 

Hartford  Seminary    286 

Harvard   Degree    339 

Haverhill,  Mass 132  sqq. 

Hawthorne    337  sq. 

Haynes,  Rev.  A.  J 325 

Home  Culture 243 

Homer,  N.  Y 9,  13  sqq.,  79,  81,  83,  156,  303 

Hopkins,  Pres.  Mark 228  sq.,  244,  262,  268 

Hospital  at  North  Adams 242 

Hudson,  Ohio   28 

Hunter,  Dea.  James 268 

Hume,  Rev.  Dr.  Robert  A 293,  296  sqq.,  343 

Ik  Marvel 344 

Illinois  College,  Doctorate  from   272 

"Immortality,"  Address   212  sqq. 

"Immortality,"    Sermons    254  sq. 

Indian  Orchard  Council    220 

Infirmity    397 

Institute  of  Arts  and  Letters 840 

Jamaica  Plain,   Mass 130,  182 

Jenkins,  Dr.  J.  L 50  sq.,  61,  86,  92,  216,  285,  262 


INDEX  405 

Jessup,  Dr.  H.  H 27,  50,  53  sq.,  69,  92,  138 

Jowett    112 

Keep,  Rev.  John 17  sq. 

Labor  Reform,  Lecture 176 

Labor  Reform,  Articles 198 

Ladd,  Prof.  George  T 252,  259 

"Lamps  and  Paths,"  Book 249 

Lawrence,  Mass 177,  197  sq. 

Library  at  North  Adams 241  sq. 

Lincoln,  Assassination  of    146 

Marriage,   First    137 

Marriage,  Second 311 

Maurice,  F.  D 112,  120,  166 

Maurice,  F.  D.,  Death  of 180  sq. 

"Maxims,"  Article    204 

Men's  Club,  United  Church,  New  Haven 313,  363 

Memorial   Tablet    354,  377 

Merriam,   Rev.   Jas.   F 220  sqq. 

Miles,  Rev.  H.  R.,  Letter  from 360 

Miller,  A.  B.,  Letter  from 323 

Ministerial  Work  in  New  Haven 307  sq. 

Mitchell,  Donald  (Ik  Marvel)    344 

Morris  G.  P.,  Appreciation 357  sqq. 

Mother,  Letters  to  his 78,  82,  99,  151 

Mother,  Her  Death 157 

Mulford,  Dr.  Elisha 28,  70  sqq.,  120,  139,  171  sq.,  268 

Mulford,  Dr.  Elisha,  Letters  to   

104,  122,  130  sq.,  148  sq.,  153,  160,  166,  180,  244,  262,  266 

Mulford,  Dr.  Elisha,  Letters  from 253 

Mulford,  Dr.  Elisha,  Death  of 280  sq. 

Munger,   Cynthia    9,  97,  158,  301 

Munger,  David  Selden 9  sq.,  158,  201 

Munger,   Ebenezer    1  sqq.,  93  sq. 

Munger,  Edward  P 9,  81  sq.,  97  sq.,  132,  142,  158,  239 


406  INDEX 

Munger,  John  Hezekiah   

9,  81  sq.,  97  sq.,  132,  142,  156,  158,  238,  301 

Hunger,  Mary  E.  W 267 

Munger,   Rosanna   M 109,  138,  176,  310 

Munger,  Rosanna  M.,  Letter  to 237 

Munger,  Rosanna  M.,  Letter  from 307  sqq. 

Munger,  Thornton  Taft   267 

"Municipal  Church,"  Sermon 315 

Mt.  Carmel,  Conn 78,  80 

"Nation,  The"— Mulford—    139,  172 

New    Theology    254  sq.,  265  sq.,  371,  374,  392 

Noble,  J.  W 49,  61 

"Noble"  Lecture  at  Cambridge   303 

North  Adams    216,  303 

North  Adams  Council   228 

Notebooks    63,  66 

"On  the  Threshold,"  Book 243  sqq, 

"Optimist,  The"  (Rev.  F.  Lynch)   356 

Ordination    86  sqq. 

Osgood,  Miss  H.  K.  (Mrs.  Munger)   311 

Osgood,  Miss  H.  K.  (Mrs.  Munger),  Letter  from 362  sqq. 

Outlook,  The,  Appreciation  in 359 

Pacific  Theological  Seminary 212 

Parish  Work  in  New  Haven 362  sq. 

Park,  Prof.  Edwards  A 72  sq. 

Parker,  Rev.  Dr.  E.  P 215,  251,  355 

Perrin,  Prof.  B (350),  355 

Perry,  Bliss,  Letter  from 322 

Phillips,  Wendell   103 

Pierce,  Hon.  H.  L 152,  302 

"Plain  Living  and  High  Thinking,"  Booklet 303 

Pleasant  Sunday  Afternoon  Club 312 

Porter,  Prof.  F.  C 282 

Porter,  Pres.  Noah    288,  282,  865 


INDEX  407 

Potwin,  Rev.  T.  S 60,  215 

Preachers  Compared    291 

Protestant  Doctrine  of  Scripture  Authority 256  sq. 

Providence,  R.  1 167  sqq. 

Reconstruction    (political) 171 

Reconstruction  (ecclesiastical)    191,  251 

"Republic  of  God,"  Book— Mulford— 251 

Retribution  Doctrine   230 

Retrospect  of  Ministry 341 

Revivalism 4,  11  sq.,  157,  159 

Robertson,   F.   W 112,  118   sqq. 

Robertson,  F.  W.,  Essay  on 174 

Robinson,  James  T 252,  268 

Robinson,   John    257,  264 

San  Jose    202  sq. 

Sanders,  Prof.  F.  K.,  Ordination  Address 327 

Schoolhouse  in  Homer 21  sq. 

Scripture,  Christian  Doctrine  of 287 

Scudder,  H.   E 182,  245,  247 

"Seer,    The"    378  sq. 

Selden  Ancestry    5  sqq. 

Selden,  Mrs.  David 35,  108 

Selden,  Mrs.  David,  Death  of 200 

Seminary  vs.  Divinity  School 285 

Sermon  Writing    99  sqq.,  151 

Smyth,  Rev.  Dr.  Egbert  C 296  sq.,  368 

Smyth,  Rev.  Dr.  Newman 258,  266,  288 

Smyth,  Rev.  Dr.  Newman,  Appreciation  from 365  sqq. 

Sprague,  Homer  B 50 

Storrs,   Rev.   Dr 91 

"Strikes,  Lesson  of,"  Articles    198 

Student  Days    30  sqq. 

Style,  Literary    387  sq. 

Taft,  E.  N 61,  268 


408  INDEX 

Taft,  Rev.  A.  N.,  Letter  to 324  sq. 

Taylor,  Dr.  N.  W 37,  39,  56,  68,  72,  74  sq. 

Thayer,  Prof.  Jos.  H 268,  282,  288,  311 

Todd,  Rev.  Dr.  J.  E 282 

Tractarian   Movement    123  sq. 

Transcript   (North  Adams)   Extract    273  sq. 

Transcript  (Boston)   Extract    339  sq. 

"Truth  through  and  by  Life,"  Sermon 290 

Union  Cliurch,  Providence,  R.  1 169 

Union   Theological  Seminary    69  sq. 

Unitarian  Schism    183  sq.,  192,  286,  331 

Unitarianism     131,  218 

United   (North)   Church,  New  Haven    

68,  67,  272,  275  sqq.,  303,  362  sq. 
United  (North)  Church,  New  Haven,  Resignation  from  315  sqq. 

Universalism     219 

University  and  Church   332 

Vermont  Resolutions    260 

Victoria,  Queen,  Appreciations    258 

Vocal  Training 1 00 

Vose,  Rev.  Dr.  J.  G 52,  175,  293,  300 

Walker,  Rev.  Dr.  George  L 260,  372 

Walker,  Prof.  W.,  Appreciation 372  sq. 

War,   The   Civil    132  sqq. 

War,  Defended 44  sq. 

Warner,  Chas.  Dudley,  Letter 305 

Watson,  Rev.  Dr.  John  (Ian  Maclaren),  compared 358 

Western  Reserve  College    28 

White,  Andrew  D 24,  55  sqq. 

White,  Andrew  D.,  Letter  to 348 

Whittier,   J.   G 249 

Wilson,  Woodrow,  on  Lincoln 64 

Winthrop  Club   174,  268 

Women,  Friendship  of 109  sqq. 


INDEX  409 

Woolsey,  Pres.  T.  D 30,  36  sq.,  57  sq. 

Woolworth,  Dr.  S.  B 24 

Yale  Divinity  School   60  sqq.,  284  sq.,  307,  389 

Yale  University,  in  1847-55    30  sq. 

Yale  University,  Bicentennial    326 

Yale  University,  Church  in 38  sq. 

Yale  University,  Corporation,  Election  to 282  sq. 

Yale  University,  Corporation,  Resignation  from 342  sq. 

Yosemite  Valley 215 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

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This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

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Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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